


Something Old Someone New

by chambergambit



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chambergambit/pseuds/chambergambit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arranged Marriage AU. After Blaine is married off to a girl, Kurt agrees to be set up by his father to someone else. Unfortunately, his main prospect is party boy Sebastian Smythe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Shauna, for being the best punching bag ever.

The weight of Blaine’s wedding ring feels distractingly ever-present in Kurt’s jacket pocket. The urge to take it out surges through him as he adjusts Blaine’s bow tie, but what exactly Kurt would do with it, he doesn’t know. Play with it? Put it on? Throw it into the beautiful lake where he suggested they hold the reception? Kurt smoothes the tie down under his fingers and smiles at Blaine instead.

“How do I look?” Blaine asks.

“Perfect,” says Kurt. He feels lump grow in his throat, but thankfully tears have yet to sting his eyes. Blaine really does look perfect. His dark blue tux is snug in all the right places, making Kurt want to reach out and hold him, claim him as his own. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Blaine says with a shrug.

They stand there for a moment, not talking. The words flowing through their minds are too painful to reach their voices, so instead they just brush their fingertips together, almost holding hands. It’s a solid minute before Blaine sniffs and rests his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

“Hey,” says Kurt. “It’ll be all—”

“It should be you,” Blaine says, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist. “I should be doing this with you. I wanted it to be you, I just—”

“I know,” Kurt says. He rubs smalls circles into Blaine’s back and takes a deep breath, trying to calm them both down. “It wasn’t your decision to make.”

Society is a petty, cruel thing. It won’t take you seriously as an adult until you are married, and your marriage is something only your parents can legally decide on. Blaine’s parents had decided that their son would only marry a girl they personally select for him, regardless of how much he insists he’s gay and loves Kurt. Their son will have a wife, whether he likes it or not.

“I won’t stop loving you,” says Blaine into Kurt’s neck. “They can make me marry her, but they can’t make me stop loving you.”

Kurt closes his eyes and smiles. “I’ll never stop loving you either.”

They hold one another for a moment, each one picturing how things should have gone, what their wedding should have been like. A knock on the door prompts them to pull apart. Poking his head into the dressing room, a cousin of the bride informs them they have five minutes to go.

Dismissing the cousin with a wave of his hand, Kurt grips Blaine’s shoulders and steers him onto a loveseat. He’s pretty sure they both need to sit down for a while before going through with this. Blaine looks up and smiles at him with wet eyes.

“Thank you for being my best man,” he whispers, trying to hold his voice steady.

“As if I could stand it being anyone else.” Kurt says. He reaches up and brushes a tear from Blaine’s cheek. “At least that’s one thing about this we have control over.”

Blaine stiffens and he sits up straight. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I’m, I’m dropping out of business school. Santana and I are going to California.”

Kurt blinks. “Wait,  _what_?”

“We’re doing it,” Blaine says, his face lighting up. “After we’re married, my parents don’t have a say in what I do anymore, and we’re taking all the money and gifts and going to California. We’re gonna be  _performers_ , Kurt. We’re following our  _dreams_.”

Kurt just lets his mouth fall open in shock as Blaine hugs him again. “But, but what about Santana’s parents?”

“They’re actually cool with it,” says Blaine as he pulls away. “It’s her grandmother that’s insisting she marry me and not Brittany.”

“Is it weird that I’m glad all my grandparents are dead?” Kurt asks. “Because I am.”

Blaine laughs. “I know, right? But Santana’s parents are gonna help her  _abuela_ keep her cool once she finds out that Santana’s not going to be a doctor like her father. I’m so grateful to them.”

“What about  _your_  parents?” Kurt asks, taking Blaine’s hand and squeezing it. “How are you breaking the news to them?”

Frowning, Blaine shrugs. “I don’t know. Brief phone call from Cooper’s apartment?”

“And when you get there,” Kurt swallows, not sure how to articulate his question. “Are you and Santana going to separate?”

“We, well….” Blaine sighs. “Our contract says we have three years before we can look into that.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, nodding. Everyone’s marriage contract is different. Parents draw it up, usually to determin how much money each spouse should make and how many kids they should have. The standard length of time they have before a couple is allowed to even discuss divorce is five years, but Blaine and Santana managed to get a smaller one. “Then, um. Good luck. Don’t forget me when you’re rich and famous, ok?”

Grinning, Blaine hugs him again. “Never.” 

Kurt’s heart pounds in his ears as he feels himself missing Blaine already. He hugs him back, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Violins tune up in the distance, and Kurt sighs, knowing what they mean.

“I have to get married now,” Blaine says.

“Yeah,” says Kurt.

“I, I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

Kurt closes his eyes, letting a single tear stream down his cheek. “Blaine, don’t—”

“Burt’s gonna find someone amazing for you,” he says, squeezing Kurt a little tighter. “I just know it. Someone who’ll love you, and take care of you, and—”

There’s another knock on the door, and Kurt pulls away. He smiles and wipes his cheek on his sleeve.

“Let’s get you hitched,” Kurt says.

_

When Santana walks down the aisle, there isn’t a dry eye in the house. It’s a warm, sunny day, and a breeze filters through their cavernous tent, blowing the many layers of her skirt back as if she were a runway model. Her train is long and traditional, but Santana’s unique attitude is reflected in the dress’s champagne color and asymmetrical neckline. Santana smiles when she sees Blaine and all of their friends at the end of the aisle, and Kurt’s emotions have no words.

He isn’t quite jealous, or happy, or sad. Simply an overwhelming sense of finality washes over him, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Her father kisses her cheek when they reach Blaine and the pastor before taking his seat next to his wife. Santana takes Blaine’s hands, but looks past him to gaze warmly at Kurt. She smiles again, and somehow Kurt feels relieved. He always knew that Blaine and Santana were in a similar situation here, but he’s grateful to be recognized by her.

_She’s not taking him away_ , he reminds himself,  _she knows how important we are to each other._  He hopes that somehow, Blaine has made sure Brittany knows this as well.

Santana turns back to Blaine, and the pastor begins the ceremony. Their vows have very little in the way of declarations of love, but both make very sincere promises of support and partnership. Kurt cries. He lets his tears fall silently down his cheeks because he realizes that these promises are not just made to each other, but to everyone else here. They will hold these two accountable,  _we_  will hold these two accountable to the promises they make to one another.

Even the secret promises of California and stardom. Kurt can feel in their words the unspoken vow of each helping the other achieve their dream. He hates Blaine’s parents for making their son marry a girl, but damn did they pick a good one.

When it’s time, Kurt hands over the rings. The beautiful platinum circles slip onto each finger easily, and Kurt tries not to picture one sliding onto his own.

“I now pronounce you,” the pastor says, “husband and wife.”

Their kiss is warm and innocent. It’s not the kiss of two people in love, but the kiss of two friends solidifying an alliance. Kurt applauds with the rest of the guests, choking, and laughing, and terrified for their future, and so, so proud of them.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson-Lopez walk arm-in-arm back up the aisle, Kurt and Brittany to follow, along with Finn and Rachel and the rest of the bridal party. He squeezes Brittany’s hand, and she beams up at him, apparently nothing but happy for their friends.

The pictures happen in a blur, just lots of standing around in various arrangements on the lake dock while the photographer attempts to find the right angle. There are a few shots with just the guys and just the girls, along with another handful of Blaine and Santana looking out onto the water alone. The jealousy Kurt’s been holding back all day gushes through his heart when he watches them pose together, but he takes a deep breath and pushes it down.

He takes a minute to look into the water himself. In his reflection he sees that his face is red and splotchy from crying, but he doesn’t really mind, because so is everyone else’s. Kurt wipes his eyes again and tells himself that the worst is over.

“So, I guess you’ll be next, huh?”

Kurt looks up to see Finn towering over him, his hands fisted in his suit pockets. A stern frown spreads across his face, and Kurt realizes just what he’s talking about.

“Not necessarily,” Kurt says. “The moment you get your shit together, I’m sure you and Rachel will be fine.”

“Yeah, but like, what does getting your shit together ever  _mean_?” Finn asks, kicking a small rock into the water. “Doesn’t Rachel have hers together? She’s finished with NYADA and getting roles…”  

“And you’ve changed your major five times in as many years,” says Kurt. “And before that was the army, and before that was Puck’s pool cleaning business…”

“Which I totally should’ve stuck with,” Finn says. “It’s like, booming.”

Kurt smiles and nods. “Besides, what makes you think I’m next? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve lost my main prospect.”

Finn glances up at the sound of Blaine and Santana giggling. Apparently, she tripped on her skirt and almost went flying into the water, but Blaine caught her at the last second. The pictures should be stunning.

“Right,” Finn says. “But like, Burt gets offers, right?”

“So I’ve heard,” says Kurt. “But thankfully, dad is picky.”

Finn takes his hands out of his pockets and crosses his arms over his chest. “Rachel said, um, she said her dads have been getting offers too.”

“Really?” Kurt asks, not at all surprised. Rachel is a star on the rise, of course her fathers would be getting offers for her. “Did she say who from?”

“She said that they were just dirty old men looking for a trophy wife and that I had, like, nothing to worry about, but…” Finn sighs and doesn’t finish his thought.

It’s not unheard of for an older person, whether a divorcé or a widow/er, to be on the prowl for a young thing on the cusp of marrying age, but Kurt doubts that Hiram and Leroy would give their daughter up so easily. Or at least, he hopes. While he likes the idea of Rachel marrying someone mature and responsible, he doesn’t want to see Finn as heartbroken as himself.

“Can I get one with the groom and the best man, please?” the photographer calls out.

Kurt rests a hand on his step-brother’s arm before heading down the dock. Santana brushes past him, jumping in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She really does look gorgeous, and he tells her so.

“Same to you, pretty boy,” she says with a wink.

He reaches Blaine at the end of the dock and drapes an arm around his shoulder. Blaine feels warm under his clothes, and it hurts to think about how long it might be before Kurt can touch his skin again. Pushing away another wave of pain, Kurt smiles for the camera.

A click, a flash of light, and then Kurt pulls away. Blaine furrows his brow, but Kurt just smiles again and gives him another kiss on the cheek. Cheek kisses seem to be the day’s thing. Blaine kisses him back, gripping the sides of his jacket as if to ask for more. But Kurt can’t give him more. Not here, not now.

“That should be it,” the photographer says, looking down at her camera. “I’ll be hanging around the reception if you want me to take anything else, alright?”

Blaine nods, not letting his eyes leave Kurt. He holds him back when Kurt tries to pull away after the photographer.

“Are you ok?” Blaine asks.

As if there’s any way he could be. “I’m fine. I’m just… nervous about my best man speech.”

“Oh.” Blaine reaches up to run a hand through Kurt’s hair even though he knows better, and Kurt lets him. “You’ll be ok. I’m excited for it, actually.”

“I, uh, I think I’m gonna need a drink first,” says Kurt.

Blaine nods. “Then let’s get you some booze.”

He wraps his arm around Kurt’s waist and leads him back to the tent, where the band once again begins to tune up. Santana takes Blaine away when they reach the dance floor behind the chairs, whispering in his ear about their first dance. He looks at Kurt, who sends them off with a nod.

Kurt ignores the singer’s announcement of “ _And now, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs—”_ as best he can, making a beeline for the bar. The only other person there besides the bartender is a tall, slender guy in a suit that Kurt doesn’t recognize. It throws him off for a minute, because he’s sure he has the invitation list memorized, but he figures he can’t remember the face of every cousin and colleague.

“Champagne?” the bartender asks as she reaches under the counter for a bottle.

“Yes, please.” Kurt says. He can hear the exhaustion in his own voice, and he wonders how he’s going to get through the party, let alone his speech.

She pulls out a bottle and flute and begins to pour, only to have the guy Kurt doesn’t recognize stop her.

“Taittinger?” he says, his lip curling. “ _Really_? The man asked for champagne, not  _piss_.”

The girl blinks up at him and gulps. “Um, Taittinger is the brand the hosts ordered.”

“Are you kidding me?” says the guy. “A wedding without Vauve Cliquot? What kind of cheap bastards are these?”

“Excuse me?” Kurt asks, appalled. Who the fuck was this guy? Who the hell comes to a wedding and insults the hosts’ choice of champagne?

“I’m sorry,” he says. He holds out his hand to Kurt, who shakes it. “Sebastian Smythe. I just think the happy couple deserves the best, don’t you?”

Kurt does have the invitation list memorized, and Sebastian Smythe is not on it.

“Are you a friend of the bride, or the groom?” Kurt asks, casually taking his glass of _perfectly acceptable_ Taittinger.

“The groom,” says Sebastian, cocking his head to the side and smiling. “I’m his mother’s second cousin’s nephew.”

Kurt flashes him a grin. “Oh, right. I forgot that Mrs. Anderson’s second cousins were coming. You must be exhausted. Just how long  _is_  the flight from the  _Philippines_ to Ohio?”

Sebastian’s smile never falters. Instead, he picks up his shot glass and clinks it against Kurt’s champagne. “I’ll see you on the dance floor,” he says before tossing his back in one go and slamming it against the table.

The bartender and Kurt exchange glances as Sebastian walks away.

“Sir,” she says, “Uh, do you think he’s crashing?”

“Maybe,” says Kurt. “But let’s just keep an eye on him for now.”

The bartender nods. “And is the Taittinger ok? Because I can get—”

“It’s fine, thank you,” Kurt says, taking a sip. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few bills. Smiling at her apologetically, he drops it into the fishbowl holding her tips. She deserves a nice one after dealing with that guy.

He turns back to the dance floor, where Blaine and Santana finish up their first dance as a married couple and invite others to join them. Standing up from their tables, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson and Mr. and Mrs. Lopez walk over to the floor and waltz together with their children. Kurt figures he has a few more songs to go before people start to settle down with food from the buffet and the speeches begin.

There’s no way he can get through this speech without crying again. It took weeks to write, but Kurt still feels like it’s unfinished. He isn’t allowed to express his true feelings in the speech, even though most of the guests already know. This isn’t about him, or course, it’s about them. Blaine and Santana and the life they will share together. Without him.

Well, maybe it’s about him just a little bit. His speech is supposed to be about his relationship with Blaine and the blessing he gives to him and his new wife, but Kurt isn’t sure if he wants to give his blessing. Taking another sip of his champagne, he sighs and watches other couples get up to dance. Finn awkwardly looms over Rachel like always, while Mike twirls Tina around in perfect circles. What Kurt wants is to call the Andersons and Santana’s grandmother out on their bullshit.

What he wants is to be the one dancing for the first time with his husband, as a husband. Kurt downs the last of his drink and places it back on the counter for a refill. But that isn’t something he’s going to get tonight, maybe not ever, not like he imagined it, at least. He nods and smiles at the bartender as she fills his glass again. Staring into the thousands of tiny bubbles, Kurt wonders how he possibly could have tricked himself into believing he would marry for love.

As he pushes himself away from the bar and heads to his assigned table, he catches his dad and Carole getting up to dance out of the corner of his eye. He supposes his romanticism is largely their fault. Both being parents who had lost their first spouses, they were free to marry who they wished without getting permission from anyone but each other. Sure, Kurt had set them up, but they made the decision themselves. He finds himself smiling again as Burt and Carole sway together. His heart aches. Kurt wants that. He wants love, not just convenience.

Pulling out his chair, he sits down at his table and runs through his speech in his head. It doesn’t feel right. It feels shallow, cheap, generic, like he got it off the internet at the last second. Kurt closes his eyes and remembers that Blaine and Santana are not letting their marriage become a cage, but a tool for freedom. Officially adults, they are no longer under the authority of their families. They’re out from under their thumb, and together they’re going to pursue their dreams.

Kurt takes another sip. It’s inspiring, really. He’s lucky that Burt and Carole are so supportive, even when he changed careers from performance to fashion. They understand that sometimes it takes awhile for people to really get on their feet and figure themselves out, and they’re with Kurt all the way. Even with Finn, they manage to be patient and understanding. Finn still needs that authority, that steady hand, even if he insist that he and Rachel are ready to go out on their own.

It’s moments like these that Kurt finds himself conflicted. On one hand, Blaine’s parents and Santana’s grandmother are using their power to ignore what their children actually want and need in order to try and mold them into something that they’re not. They won’t succeed, and Kurt takes much pleasure in that, but it’s infuriating to know that they tried. On the other hand, Finn and Rachel have been trying to tie the knot for years, but their parents know they’re not ready. Kurt suspects that they’re just enchanted with the  _idea_  of marriage, with the  _idea_  of finally being adults than actually understanding everything that it means.

He wishes that there were some middle ground, a time and place where you can reject your family when necessary, while at the same time having them step in and steer you right when you need them. Kurt sighs and puts down his champagne. He wishes and wants for a lot of things.

The song ends, and is soon replaced by a faster number. Santana takes Blaine’s hands and they start jumping to the beat, beaming at each other with excitement. More people get up to join them; some couples, some groups, and some singles just wanting to dance the day away. Kurt resists the urge to join them, going back into his head to assemble his speech into something acceptable.

Yesterday, the opening seemed sweet and funny, but now it just sounds stiff and corny. Kurt sighs and whispers it out loud, trying to make the words feel right on his tongue, but the more he says them, the less sense they make. He picks up his glass and takes a long swig before setting it back down and going over the speech again. What even came after the introduction? He couldn’t remember.

Kurt looks back up at the sound of a “woohoo!” and sees Sebastian Smythe bounce onto the dance floor with his hands in the air. His suit jacket is off, abandoned at a table where he is most certainly not assigned. As he dances, he pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows, exposing his wrists. Kurt taps his fingers against the table and bites his lip. Part of him wants to grab those wrists and drag Sebastian away from the party, kick him out for crashing. Another just wants to dance with him.

Sebastian catches his eye and grins. He cocks an eyebrow, as if he knows just what Kurt’s thinking and daring him to make a move. Kurt remains in his seat, but the tapping of his fingers start to match the beat of the music. He watches Sebastian spin, keeping perfect balance on the ball of one foot as he claps his hands. It reminds him of the polished, if tame, dance moves the Warblers used to pull back when he and Blaine attended Dalton. Next to Sebastian, Blaine seems to have renounced his old school’s ways in favor of tossing his head back and forth, setting his curls free.

Kurt smiles and finds himself standing up. This is a celebration, after all, and Kurt deserves to have some fun. Their relationship isn’t over just because one of them now has a ring.

Blaine grins when he sees Kurt approach the floor and holds out his hand. Kurt takes it, lacing their fingers together and letting Blaine pull him into the music. He closes his eyes, lets himself go, and all of his worries disappear with the sound and movement.

After a while, the songs blend together and time passes without much notice. The guests start to filter off the dance floor towards the buffet table, piling their plates with salmon, or steak, or salad. Towers of fruit, cheese, and crackers mark each end of the buffet, but they shrink with every song that plays. Santana fans herself with her hand after a particularly energetic rendition of  _Build Me Up Buttercup_ , and bumps her shoulder into Blaine. 

“Hey, Hubby,” she says. “Why is everyone stuffing their faces without us? Let’s get some food, yeah?”

Blaine looks around at all the people eating, and places a hand over his stomach. “Oh, man. I’m  _famished._  You hungry, Kurt?”

To Kurt’s surprise, he actually is. Carole walks by with her plate filled with a steaming salmon fillet, and Kurt’s mouth starts to water. Food sounds like a  _great_  idea. With the dance floor nearly empty, the band slows their music down, but Kurt still shimmies a bit as he gets in line.

Once his plate is full, he grabs another glass of champagne and heads for his assigned seat. Blaine and Santana sit at a table for two in the middle of the tent, while Kurt sits with the rest of the wedding party off to the side. Rachel plops down next to him, picking at the pile of grapes she has on a small dish.

“When do you think she’ll throw the bouquet?” she asks, gazing at the bundle of flowers Santana has next to her.

“Probably at the end,” says Kurt. “Before she and Blaine leave for their honeymoon.”

Rachel nods and pops another grape in her mouth. “Oh, right, they’re going to LA. Do you know when they’re coming back?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “And I’m not telling you.”

“Wait, what?” Rachel asks, still chewing. “Oh my god, do you have a secret? You have to tell me!”

Kurt smiles and cuts into his steak. “Nope.”

“What is it?” she pleads. “You can’t just tell me you’re not telling me something!”

“I can, and I will,” says Kurt. He finishes carving a cube out of his steak and stabs it  with his fork, trying not to imagine that his food is really Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, chopped up into little pieces. He yearns to tell Rachel all about Blaine and Santana’s plans to run away and never come back, but he knows he can’t risk their families finding out. Besides, he wouldn’t want to rob them of their delicious moment of revenge.

Rachel pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well then, I don’t care. As long as I get that bouquet, I’m as happy as a clam.”

“Even if you catch it, that doesn’t mean you’ll get married next,” Kurt says. “It’s just a stupid superstition. Next is probably Mike and Tina.”

“Or you!” Rachel says, bouncing in her seat. “Finn told me Burt’s gotten offers!”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “So? Haven’t Hiram and Leroy?”

“That’s different, you’re not still holding out on someone,” says Rachel. Kurt shoots her a look and she immediately recoils. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Rachel says. She reaches out and touches Kurt’s shoulder. “It’s not fine at all. This should be—”

“I know, Rachel,” says Kurt. “But there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

Rachel sits back and takes a deep breath. “Will you be able to make your speech?”

“I don’t—”

“SPEECH!”

Kurt turns around to see Sebastian standing behind him, banging a fork against a beer bottle.

“Speech!” he says, prompting others to clang their cutlery against glass as well. “Best man speech! Yeah!”

His body shaking with rage, Kurt glares at Sebastian as he stands up. Sebastian only smiles back at him, applauding with the rest of the guests. Kurt wonders if he’ll still have to do it if he punches this crasher in the face, but then he hears Blaine’s voice in the crowd. He looks over to the bride and groom’s table, where Blaine and Santana look at him expectantly. Blaine’s expression is hopeful, and Kurt realizes that he really has been looking forward to this. He must expect Kurt to say something lovely and heartfelt.

Kurt’s blood runs cold as his anger is quickly replaced by fear.

Some guy from the band appears next to him, holding a microphone. Kurt takes it, wincing at the loud feedback pouring through the speakers. He holds the mic up to his mouth as the band guy slips away. The sound of his shaking breath exposes his nervousness, and Kurt pulls the mic away. Any other time, any other speech or performance, and Kurt would be just fine. But this moment, with the eyes of everyone he knows and loves on him, he’s at a loss for words.

“Uh, hi,” Kurt says. The guests chuckle, as if Kurt’s being awkward on purpose. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “I’ve been working on this speech for weeks, but every time I think I’ve got it, I realize that it’s not good enough a second later.” Looking at Blaine, he smiles. “Because nothing’s good enough. There’s nothing I can say, nothing I want to say, nothing I’m allowed to say—” Mr. and Mrs. Anderson exchange a look. “—That will fully express how I feel about Blaine.” Kurt pauses to swallow. “And Santana.”

Santana smiles at him, reaching across her table to take Blaine’s hand.

“You both are very, very important to me,” Kurt continues, a lump welling up in his throat. “I, um, I needed you. Santana, you were a friend and ally in high school, and Blaine—” His voice cracks. Blaine blinks up at him and carefully wipes his cheek. “Blaine, you were just, you were everything.” He pauses again to breathe, because it feels like his lungs are about to collapse. Straightening his back, he closes his eyes. “So, Santana, you’d better take care of him. You guys better take care of each other. Because that, I guess, is was marriage is supposed to be about, two people taking care of and supporting one another. So even though this match may come as a, um, surprise, I trust that you guys can do that. You can make each other happy. Thank you.”

Kurt lets the hand holding the mic fall to his side while he covers his eyes with the other. The guests applaud, but it doesn’t feel the way applause should. There’s no rush of adrenaline or endorphins from finishing a performance. The only thing Kurt feels is empty.

Arms close around him. Kurt takes his hand away to find both Blaine and Santana there, pulling him close and tight. He leans into them, ignoring the awkward puffs of the mic as it brushes against their clothes. Blaine kisses his temple, and Kurt smiles.

“I love you,” he says into Blaine’s neck.

“We love you, too.” Blaine says.

“Sure thing, Baby Gay,” says Santana, running her fingers through Kurt’s hair.

She takes the mic from him and hands it to her father while Blaine takes Kurt back to his seat. Kurt sits down, holding onto Blaine’s hand for a moment before he leaves to return to Santana. He doesn’t listen to whatever speech Mr. Lopez has to give. He can’t hear anything over the roar of his own heartbreak. Rachel holds his hand through the rest of the speeches, silently moving her thumb back and forth over his palm.

Kurt manages to come back to reality in time for cake. It’s a three-tiered masterpiece with blue roses made of frosting decorating its walls. He watches Blaine and Santana cut into it, revealing its chocolate center, and laughs when they shove cake into each other’s faces. Rachel gets him a piece when he tells her he’s not up for it, and it’s somehow the best fucking cake Kurt has ever eaten.

He stays at his table while others mingle and dance, inhaling cake slice after cake slice. At one point Burt comes over, asking if he wants to “talk about it,” but they both know he can’t. Kurt’s done with talking. Now is the time to eat.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. Rachel’s seat is open as she dances with one of her fathers, and Sebastian slides into it, cradling his cake slice on a plate in his hands. He digs into it, slowly pulling the fork out of his mouth and trailing his tongue along the sides to pick up leftover traces of frosting. Kurt arches an eyebrow at him, but says nothing.

He turns away, hoping that if he ignores Sebastian, he’ll go back to the bar and bother someone else. Instead, Sebastian reaches out his hand and dips his finger into the frosting rose on Kurt’s cake. He grins as he brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks on the tip.

Kurt stares at him. “I have nothing to say to that.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Sebastian says. With that, he stands and drops his cake into Kurt’s lap.

“What the  _fuck_?” Kurt leaps up, grabs a napkin and desperately wipes at his pants, but it only serves to spread the icing around further. “Why would you do that? What the hell is  _wrong_  with you? Do you have any idea how much this suit  _cost_?”

“Whoops,” says Sebastian, throwing up his hands and shrugging. “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Kurt sneers as Sebastian pushes past him. “Yeah, go get another drink, you drunk asshole.”

He slams his napkin onto the ground and heads towards the restrooms in a small building just beyond the tent. Pulling the door open to the mens room, Kurt sees in the mirror that the mess is worse than he imagined. White and blue frosting mixed with chocolate crumbs splatter the front of his nice gray suit pants, making him look like a child who doesn’t know how to use a fork. He turns on the sink and grabs a paper towel, hoping that he can clean this up without looking like he pissed himself.

The door behind him opens, and Blaine pokes his head in. “Kurt? Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Kurt says with a sigh. “Some meerkat-faced crasher just dropped cake on me.”

“Really?” Blaine asks as he closes the door behind him. “I didn’t know we had a crasher.”

“Sebastian Smythe. That name sound familiar?” Kurt asks. He scoops most of the mess off with a dry towel and tosses it into the trash before taking another and soaking it in water.

Blaine pulls another paper towel out from the dispenser and wets it as well. “I think Samuel Smythe is the state attorney, but other than that, no.”

Kurt half sits, half leans onto the counter as he and Blaine wipe the rest of the cake off together. It feels weird and dirty to have Blaine’s hands on his crotch, even though they’ve been there so many times before. If he weren’t such an awkward mixture of sad and angry, he might get a little turned on. His breath hitches when Blaine’s fingers brush his fly, and it occurs to him that they might not get another chance to have sex in a while. Kurt doubts a quickie would be worth it, though. He looks at Blaine, who gazes down at his hands.

“The limo is coming.” Blaine says. “The one taking us to the airport. It’ll stop at the house so we can change, but—”

“When is it supposed to arrive?” Kurt asks. He bundles up the wet towels and throws them away before resting his hands over Blaine’s. Blaine smoothes them up his legs and spreads his fingers out over Kurt’s hips. “I mean, how much time do we have?”

“Enough to throw the bouquet and the garter,” says Blaine. He sighs and looks up at Kurt. “I want you to come with us.”

“I can’t,” Kurt says. He leans forward and pushes his forehead against Blaine’s. “I have my job in New York. I can’t just leave.”

“Let’s just pretend,” Blaine says, bringing his hands up to cup Kurt’s jaw. “Let’s just pretend for a minute that this is our wedding, and in half an hour we’ll be leaving on our honeymoon together.”

“Blaine, I—”

“Please,” he says, pulling Kurt closer.

Kurt closes his eyes and throws his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. He pictures the wedding he’s had in his head for years. In his mind’s eye, he sees Burt and Carole, and Finn and Rachel, along with Cooper and the rest of Blaine’s family. It’s a night like he always wanted, with soft candles lighting up the garden where they hold their reception. The cake is red velvet.

They kiss full on the lips, no longer avoiding it by going for cheeks and temples and foreheads. Kurt licks into Blaine’s mouth, tasting champagne and cake and a little bit of what might be Santana’s lip gloss. The kiss is hard and desperate, begging to be something more with wandering hands and grasping fingers, but constantly denied. They pull apart, their noses still touching, still breathing the same air.

“My husband,” Kurt says, “whoever he turns out to be, had better be ok with me being hopelessly in love with you.”

Blaine nods. “My wife seems to be pretty ok with it, so far.”

“Good,” says Kurt, sliding off the counter. “I’m very fond of your wife, I must say.”

“She’s a keeper,” says Blaine.

“How’re my pants?” Kurt asks. He turns and faces the mirror, standing up on his tiptoes to get a better look.

“Not a complete disaster,” says Blaine, tilting his head to the side. “Although this Sebastian guy should pay to have them cleaned.”

“I doubt he’ll be sober enough to remember he was even here by tomorrow, let alone what he did to my pants,” says Kurt as they make their way towards the door. “So, shall we see who Rachel murders in her attempt to catch the bouquet?”

“Oh yes, let’s.”

Outside, Santana wobbles as she climbs onto a chair in the middle of the dance floor and holds her bouquet high above her head. The girls gather behind her, the air around them buzzing with anticipation. Rachel stands in the middle of the group, bouncing on her heels. In one swift motion, Santana tosses the bouquet behind her, sending it soaring through the air.

Brittany lets out a shriek as Rachel leaps onto her, arms outstretched and grasping at nothing as the flowers sail just above her fingers and right into Tina’s arms. Tina lets out a laugh and holds the bouquet up to show everyone, while Rachel convulses, trying to keep herself from screaming or crying or worse.

Mike leaps up from his seat and runs over to Tina, pulling her into a hug. Kurt genuinely hopes that they’re next. They have to be the most stable and loving couple he knows. He would be honored to attend their wedding.

Santana steps down from the chair and beckons Blaine to come over. He smiles at Kurt before heading over to his wife. Kurt sits back down at his table and watches as the two hide behind a tent flap to take off Santana’s garter. This always seemed to be one of the weirder wedding traditions to Kurt. If the groom is to throw something, shouldn’t it be something of his?

Kurt bites the inside of his cheek as he remembers that most wedding traditions come from the archaic notion that wives are the property of their husbands, and that the garter would probably be considered ‘his’ as well. Blaine steps back out from behind the tent flap and hooks the lacy black circle over one finger and stretches it back with his other hand. He shoots it over the dance floor, and it flies off into the tables.

A hand juts out and catches it. It’s not until he stands up and twirls the garter around over his head that Kurt sees it’s Sebastian Smythe. He rolls his eyes as the other guests laugh and applaud, and turns back to the remains of his cake.

There’s one more dance to go before the limo arrives to take Blaine and Santana away to their new life. It’s a father/daughter, mother/son dance, according to the singer, so Kurt has no reason to participate. He does, however, smile when Finn takes Carole onto the dance floor. He would have liked to dance with her, but figures that it’s really something she should share with Finn.

He scoops up some leftover frosting with his finger and licks it, wondering what life would have been like if his mother had lived. He wonders what the circumstances surrounding his parents marriage were. Were they in love? Did they even know each other before they were engaged?

The sun has started to set, filling the sky with shades of orange and pink. The limo pulls up beside the tent, and the driver steps out to open the door. Kurt stands up and heads over to it with everyone else to say goodbye.

Blaine hugs him, hard and tight. Kurt buries his face in Blaine’s neck, breathing in his scent and never wanting to let go. They have to, after a moment, because Blaine’s parents pull him off of Kurt to hug him themselves. Santana’s hug is light and sweet. They lean against each other, supported by mutual understanding.

Kurt doesn’t hold back his tears as they slip into the car and drive off. He can’t bring himself to wave or call out his goodbyes, so he stuffs his hands in his pockets and watches the limo turn the corner and disappear in silence.

He stays behind for a to help clean up while the other guests start to leave. He gathers up the dishes and silverware and brings it to the caterers, who are grateful for his assistance. Kurt’s happy to help, because it takes his mind off things. Once the tables are clear, he starts folding the chairs and stacking them near the back of the tent.

The work is repetitive and mindless, and after a while Kurt stops thinking about anything. His body goes on autopilot as his mind retreats to rest. It’s comforting, knowing that the wedding is finally over and he can move on with his life. The months building up to it had been hell. Now Kurt can go back to New York, go back to work and never bother with any of this shit again. Until he gets married himself, at least, but he’s pretty sure that’s a long way off.

Something hits him in the neck as he folds the last chair and leans it against the pile of others. He looks around and sees Santana’s garter lying on the grass before him. Bending over, he picks it up as Sebastian Smythe saunters over to him.

“I need a ride,” he says, casually examining his nails. “I’m too drunk to drive.”

Judging by the slight stumble in his step, Kurt agrees, but he’s not going to give this asshole any more of his time than he has to. “Call a cab,” he says.

“Can’t,” says Sebastian. “I dropped my wallet in the lake.”

“Then walk,” Kurt says, bundling up the garter and tossing it at him.

Sebastian ducks it, but the motion knocks him off balance and staggers in place for a minute before catching himself on the pile of chairs. He straightens himself up and brushes off his jacket.

“C’mon,” he says. “It’s not that far. I’ll give you money for your pants, or whatever.”

Kurt sighs and looks him up at down. Sebastian smiles, and Kurt realizes that this is probably the only way to get rid of him. “Fine.”

“Sweet, I knew you’d come around,” Sebastian says, his smile widening.

“Just try not to throw up on my seats,” says Kurt. He brushes past him, waving his hand to indicate that Sebastian should follow.

They walk to the parking lot, Sebastian occasionally tripping and grabbing onto Kurt for support. He snorts when they reach Kurt’s Lincoln, but Kurt doesn’t push it. Considering his opinions about champagne, Kurt hardly wants to hear what Sebastian has to say about cars.

“So, where do you live?” Kurt asks as they climb in.

Sebastian sinks into his seat and closes his eyes. “That way.”

“And that way is?” asks Kurt, pulling his seatbelt on. He can’t wait for this to be over.

“I live on De Stuteville,” Sebastian says with a sigh, waving his hand in the general direction of his neighborhood.

It’s a fancy street that actually isn’t that far, so Kurt pulls out of his spot and into the road. They drive in silence for a few minutes and Kurt suspects that Sebastian might have fallen asleep, but he speaks up when they stop at a light.

“That was some speech you gave,” he says, resting his head against the window. “I didn’t know one man could cry that much.”

“Fuck you,” Kurt says. The light turns green and he drives through the intersection a little faster than necessary. “At least I’m not the one crashing weddings by myself. What, life get too boring on rich-ass De Stuteville?”

“Yep, no one was home,” Sebastian says. He shifts in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” Kurt asks.

“I came home to celebrate,” says Sebastian with a yawn. “But no one was home.”

They turn onto his street. The big houses tower over them, their many rooms and windows lighting up the night. Kurt slows down, wondering how anyone could get bored here.

“Which one is yours?” he asks.

Sebastian sits up and squints. “See that one?” he asks, pointing.

At the end of the cul-de-sac, a huge, empty mansion rises high above the others. The lights are all off, and no cars fill the driveway. Sebastian is definitely right about no one being home. Kurt parks on the curb and unlocks the door.

“Nice knowing you,” he says, waiting for Sebastian to get out.

Rolling his head to the side to look at Kurt, Sebastian smiles. “Aren’t you going to walk me to my door?”

“I’ll take a raincheck,” Kurt says. He reaches over to open the passenger door, but Sebastian grabs his arm, stopping him.

“I understand why you were sad,” he says. Sebastian slides his hand up Kurt’s arm. “I’d be sad too if I had Blaine and he left me for some girl. That boy was sex on a stick.”

“He didn’t leave me,” Kurt says quietly. He knows he should push Sebastian away, but the touch is comforting. “He didn’t have a choice.”

Sebastian leans forward, pressing his forehead to Kurt’s temple. His hands seem to be everywhere now, running down his chest and between his legs. Kurt closes his eyes when Sebastian palms at his crotch, but doesn’t move.

“You’re drunk,” he says.

Sebastian chuckles in his ear. “Just drunk enough to help you forget—”

“Stop it.”

Kurt shakes his head and pushes Sebastian away. Sebastian stares at him for a moment, surprised, then shrugs.

“Fine,” he says. “Your loss.”

With a click, Sebastian undoes his seatbelt, opens the door and gets out of the car. It occurs to Kurt to ask for the money Sebastian promised, but it’s not worth it. Instead, he just sits there and watches Sebastian stumble his way to the front door. Once he makes it, Kurt steps on the gas and pulls away.

Kurt finds himself oddly satisfied as he drives himself home, as if this wedding was not just a new beginning for Blaine and Santana, but for himself, as well. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to get married, if he’s ready for Burt to set up meetings and to give interviews, but he is ready to move on. He’s ready to grow up.

Unfortunately, growing up means getting hitched.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHAUNA IS MY DARLING BABY HONEY BEAR.

New York feels like home in way Ohio never did. The wide range of people and culture, the food, the art, the industry, all leave Kurt buzzing with excitement even after he’s lived there for years. The place stimulates him, which is all Kurt has ever really needed. Still, he could do without cabs splashing mud on his shoes.

He grimaces and kicks most of it off on the sidewalk outside his office building. The temperature is at least ten degrees hotter than in Lima, making Kurt worry about the state of his underarms. At least he could blame cake stains on someone else; sweat is entirely his own fault. Other than the heat, he’s happy to be back in the city. He’s happy to go back to work and not think about marriage for a while. Kurt smiles to himself as he pushes the glass doors open and heads through the lobby to the elevator.

On the plane home, he decided that marriage, while inevitable, was not something he really needs to concern himself with. He has a college degree, a great job, and a nice apartment that he shares with his best friend. Kurt Hummel is a voting, tax paying adult, and if the rest of the world can’t see that just because he doesn’t have a ring on his finger, then it’s their loss.

The elevator opens up to a lofty office space, filled with people sketching, talking, and comparing fabrics. His coworkers smile and wave as he waltzes past them to his desk. Kurt likes most of them, with their unique haircuts and unconventional styles. Sometimes, he wonders what it would have been like to know some of them in his more lonely high school days, especially since the fact that he  _did_  know one prepared him for the worst.

Harmony pops up next to him, flashing a bright smile. She always does that when she greets him, but Kurt thinks it feels more like an animal baring its teeth. “Welcome back, Kurt.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Glad to be back.”

It had been a surprise when the intimidating sophomore from the 2011 Regionals competition showed up as an intern at Kurt’s workplace, but considering all the talented and creative people he knew, it made sense that a lot of them gravitated to New York, especially ruthless ones like Harmony. After developing some particularly bad vocal cord nodules, Harmony switched from singing to design. She climbed the office ladder with alarming speed, and now sits at the same level as Kurt, with one eye constantly on the next step. Kurt appreciates the competition, when he thinks about it. His best work tends to come out when he and Harmony have their sights set on the same assignment.

“You’ve missed quite a lot,” Harmony says, placing her hands on her hips. “We have orders coming in left and right, and two different shoots at the end of the week. I hope you don’t fall too far behind.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” he says as he sits down. Kurt makes a mental note to ask around and get the full details of everything he missed while in Lima. Falling behind is exactly what Harmony wants.

“Oh Kurt, thank god you’re back. It has been an absolute madhouse without you!”

Gliding across the room towards them, Kurt’s boss opens up her arms, pulls him out of his chair for a hug. He hugs back, grinning at Harmony when her face falls. Amelia Fey personally requited Kurt right out of Pratt, and he’s always been grateful for her. A mentor and an inspiration, if wanting to beat Harmony doesn’t bring the best out of Kurt, then wanting to please Amelia will.

“I missed you too, Amelia,” Kurt says when they pull apart.

She tosses back her long blonde hair and sighs. “You absolutely  _must_  tell me everything about your friend’s wedding.”

“Speaking of weddings!” Harmony says, holding out her left hand. A diamond ring sparkles on her finger.

Kurt raises an eyebrow at her for forcing the conversation back her way, and then takes her hand to examine the ring. It’s actually a quite nice princess cut with a lovely braided band, but Kurt can’t bring himself to say anything. He just passes it to Amelia to let her gush.

“Now that is a  _rock_ ,” Amelia says, holding Harmony’s hand close to her face. “When did this happen? I hope your parents chose well!”

“Just last night,” says Harmony. “He’s a banker. Old friend of the family.”

“Oh, my baby is growing up!” Amelia says, dropping Harmony’s hand and pulling her into a hug. Harmony smirks at Kurt from over Amelia’s shoulder, as if to say,  _yeah bitch, I’m her baby. Fucking beat that._  Amelia pulls away and holds her at arm’s length. “Will you be designing your own dress? You know, I’ve been thinking of taking the company into bridal—”

Kurt doesn’t want to talk about weddings, whether it’s Blaine’s or Harmony’s, so he tunes them out and sits back down, opening up his laptop to check his email. There’s one from his father, asking what restaurant he recommends for their lunch date tomorrow, and another from Blaine with pictures of some apartments he’s checking out with Santana. Kurt feels that awful pressure in his chest again, and decides to save Blaine’s for later.

“What about you, Kurt?”

He looks at Harmony and Amelia, who smile down at him expectantly. “I’m sorry?”

“Your parents find any good prospects?” Amelia asks.

“I’m afraid my father is rather selective,” Kurt says. He shrugs and smiles. “Besides, I’d rather focus on my career right now. I don’t want any distractions.”

Harmony’s smile falters while Amelia arches an eyebrow. She reaches over and rubs Kurt’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you meet me in my office once you’re settled in so we can catch up?” Amelia asks.

“That would be lovely,” says Kurt.

With that, Amelia swoops off to her office and Kurt turns back to his computer. Harmony leans against his desk, admiring her ring.

“When you do get engaged,” she says, turning her hand back and forth so that the stone catches the light, “do you think you’ll get a ring?”

Kurt pauses. It’s a surprisingly neutral question, and Kurt finds himself having one of those surreal moments where it seems like he and Harmony could be friends.

“I’m not really into rings,” he says. “Maybe an engagement brooch.”

Eventually, Harmony retreats to her own desk. Kurt takes his time, unpacking his briefcase and arranging the sketches he made while in Lima in an orderly fashion to show Amelia later. He puts his favorite on the bottom so it’s the last one she’ll see. It’s a trick he learned in art school: save your best work for last in your portfolio, because that’s the one that will stay in their mind. 

Changing career paths was the best and most difficult decision Kurt ever made in his life. He had been devastated by NYADA’s rejection, but took that summer to evaluate his talents and abilities, and figure out what industry would most appreciate them. The acceptance letter from Pratt felt just as good as any applause.

Almost an hour goes by before Kurt remembers that Amelia asked to meet her in her office. Kurt gathers up his sketches and heads across the room. Amelia has the only personal office on the floor. It’s a nice, spacious room with large windows, allowing for a gorgeous view of the park below. Kurt pokes his head in the door and knocks on the wall.

“You wanted to see me?” he asks.

Amelia nods and gestures for him to enter. “Come in, come in.”

Kurt smoothes out his vest and sits down in the leather arm chair across from Amelia at her desk. He holds up his sketches, about to hand them to her, but she waves them away.

“Not now, Kurt,” Amelia says. “I have something else I need to discuss with you.”

Feeling a little rejected, he just nods and carefully places the drawings on the floor next to him. “What is it?”

“I’m just wondering how you plan on focusing on your career when there is absolutely no way you can advance much further without getting married,” says Amelia, lacing her fingers together and leaning forward to look at him.

Kurt blinks. “Excuse me?”

Amelia sighs. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yes,” he replies.

“Then let me give you a friendly taste of reality.” Amelia sits back and holds her arms out. “All of this could not have been accomplished without my marriage. And if you want to start your own company one day—”

“Well, I—”

“Don’t look at me like that, Hummel. As much as I would like to keep you all to myself, I know that one day you’re gonna want to fly solo, but to do that, you’ll have to get married, and soon.”

Kurt gulps. “Soon?”

“You’re about to turn twenty-five,” she says, bringing her arms back down. “If you go unmarried for much longer, it’ll be  _weird._  People will think that there’s something wrong with you, and it will reflect poorly on me to have an old bachelor as one of my senior designers.”

“Old bachelor?” Kurt asks. “Is twenty-five really that old?”

“It’s a quarter of a century,” Amelia says. She purses her lips and shakes her head. “I know you’re very much an adult, but this is how the world works.”

“I know,” Kurt says with a sigh. “I just, I don’t want to get married just because it’s convenient.”

Amelia waves her hand at that. “Trust me, Honey. I love my husband, but marriage is in no way convenient.”

“Well….” Kurt takes a moment to think about it. “I’m having lunch with my dad tomorrow. I’ll ask him about it then.”

“Good boy,” Amelia says. She smiles and snaps her fingers. “Now, let’s see what you’ve brought for me.”

Kurt grins and hands her his sketches.

After they go over his designs and Amelia gives him some solid critiques, Kurt heads back to his desk to find his phone ringing. He frowns when he sees that it’s his father, and answers it, hoping that he isn’t calling to cancel.

“Hey, Dad,” Kurt says, tucking the phone into his neck and holding it in place with his shoulder as he puts his sketches away.

“Hey, Kiddo,” says Burt. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. I just had a kind of weird lecture from my boss about marriage, but other than that, I’m fine. How’re you.”

“Great, great. What did Mrs. Fey have to say?” Burt asks, chuckling at his own rhyme.

“That I should get it over with before people start to think I’m weird, more or less.”

“I hate to break it to you, kid, but there are always gonna be people who think you’re weird.”

Kurt laughs. “That’s their problem, not mine.”

“You got that right,” Burt says. “Listen, I actually kinda wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Really?” Kurt asks. His sketches in place, he relaxes his shoulder and holds his phone in his hand. “What’s up?”

“A lawyer buddy of mine is also gonna be in New York tomorrow, and he would like you to meet his son.”

Kurt swallows. It’s too soon. He agreed that he needs to maybe talk about it, and now he’s getting set up? No, no, it’s not fair. He still needs to get used to the idea of Blaine getting married, let alone himself.

“Oh.” Then again, his birthday is coming up soon, and Amelia made twenty-five sounds absolutely ancient.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to, Kurt,” his father says. “What’s important is for you to be ready. I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Kurt exhales and relaxes. “I know. It’s just, it’s a little too soon after Blaine.”

“I figured,” Burt says. “I’ll tell him you’re not ready.”

An eruption of laughter catches Kurt’s attention, and he looks up to see Harmony surrounded by their fellow coworkers. She holds up her hand to show off her ring, and the others murmur their approval. Kurt bites his lip.

“Well, I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just a meeting, right? It’s not like we’re gonna draw up a contract waiting for our appetizers. I can meet a guy.”

“You sure?” Burt asks. “Because I can tell him no.”

“I’m sure,” Kurt says, mostly to himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Ok, see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Kurt hangs up. Part of him feels guilty, like he’s caving in on his promise to focus on other things too easily. Another part feels a strange mix of scared and excited. What if he’s great? What if he’s terrible? Either way, Kurt will at least be able to say that his father’s looking, which should divert questions for a while.

The rest of the day goes by without much incident. Kurt emails Blaine back with his opinions on his and Santana’s potential new apartments, and a promise to call him soon. Rachel texts him, saying there’s a rumor going around that a  _Funny Girl_  revival is in the works. Kurt tells her to drop her agent if he doesn’t get her an audition. He falls into the rhythm of sketching, and loses track of time. It’s not a bad day, but it could be better.

Tonight is special because it’s the premiere of a new cop procedural show, the name of which Kurt can never remember, starring Quinn Fabray. Well, not starring, but apparently she has a prominent supporting role, and everyone from their old glee club days is very excited. Rachel has been walking the line between happiness and jealousy for weeks since they found out, and Kurt often enjoys pushing her buttons about it.

In their apartment, Kurt puts some popcorn in the microwave while Rachel paces back and forth in front of the TV.

“I mean, I’m happy for her, but I feel like this is a sign, you know?” Rachel says, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

“Uh, no?” says Kurt as he takes a bowl about of the cabinet. “A sign of what?”

“That everything’s coming together,” Rachel says. “We’re all entering a new phase in our lives. Quinn’s got her show, you’re meeting your husband tomorrow, and I’m going to be Fanny Brice.”

“Ok, one?” says Kurt, turning around and leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m like, ninety nine percent sure that I’m not gonna marry this guy. I’m just meeting him to get used to the idea of having meetings. And two? You don’t even know if the revival is really happening. You can’t be the lead in a show that’s not actually playing.”

“But it  _has_  to, Kurt!” says Rachel as she flops down onto the couch. “Even if it’s just a rumor at this point, all the buzz and excitement will get the project going for real!”

“Maybe,” Kurt says. The microwave beeps and Kurt opens it to take out the bag.

“What if I’m not funny enough?” Rachel asks, suddenly worried. “Both Fanny Brice and Barbra Streisand are comediennes for the ages. I’ve only ever really focused on singing and dramatic acting. What if it turns out that I’m not funny enough?”

“Rachel, you’re hilarious,” says Kurt. “Usually it’s unintentional, but you’re as funny as they come. You could maybe work on honing your comedic skills, however. Take a class at the Upright Citizens Brigade, or something.”

“Omigod, shut up, it’s starting!”

Kurt pours the popcorn into the bowl and rushes over to sit next to Rachel. The popcorn spills a bit as falls into his seat, but he and Rachel ignore it to huddle up. The titles appear and they both squeal at Quinn’s name.

The show is a little hard to follow, considering half the time it’s some kind of dream sequence, and Kurt finds himself watching Rachel’s reactions more often than the TV. Rachel inhales deeply whenever Quinn appears on screen, and sighs whenever she speaks. Kurt can never fully understand how Rachel feels about Quinn Fabray. In high school, she always seemed to be both terrified and in awe of her. Sometimes she acted like she want to become her, to the point that Kurt’s surprised she never tried to dye her hair and join the Cheerios.

He supposes that it’s not really Quinn herself so much as what Quinn represents. Whenever she comes up in conversation, Rachel never remembers the rocky periods of Quinn’s life, only the fact that she was beautiful and popular and had ‘fireworks’ with Finn. Kurt wonders how easily Rachel is able to forgive Quinn for all the times she was nasty and vindictive, and then remembers that he knows exactly how hard it is to stay mad at someone when you’ve seen them at their lowest low.

“Ugh, she’s gorgeous,” Rachel says. She pulls her knees up to her chest and squeezes them. 

Kurt turns to the screen and then back to Rachel. “She’s covered in blood.”

“It’s dream blood, it doesn’t count,” Rachel says.

“Whatever,” says Kurt, pushing himself up off the couch. As he heads back to the kitchen to get a drink, the phone in his pocket vibrates. He pulls it out to see Blaine’s face beaming up at him, and answers. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” says Blaine.

It feels so good to hear Blaine’s voice again. Kurt closes his eyes and smiles, resting his body against a wall. “Are you watching Quinn’s show? It’s different from what I thought it would be. It’s less  _CSI_  and more  _Inception_.”

“No, it doesn’t come on here for another couple hours. Cooper won’t shut up about how he was this close to getting the detective role,” says Blaine. Kurt thinks he can hear Cooper in the background confirming that he really was one callback away. “Is Quinn supposed to be a ghost, or something?”

“I think Quinn is the detective’s hallucination, but I don’t know,” Kurt says.

He hears Blaine clear his throat. “So, I heard you have a meeting tomorrow.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Kurt asks.

“Rachel told Finn, who told Mike, who told me,” Blaine says. “Santana mentioned it as well, but I don’t know where she heard it from.”

“I see,” says Kurt, shooting Rachel a look. Rachel ignores him. It’s not that he wanted to hide it from Blaine. He just wanted to tell him in his own time. “It’s true, I do. But it’s not a big deal. It’s gonna be me and my dad with him and his dad, which actually sounds more awkward than romantic.”

“Well, I hope he’s nice,” says Blaine.

Kurt takes a soda out of the fridge and leaves for his room. The show is too weird for him, and he just wants to talk to Blaine. He closes the door behind him and sighs.

“I miss you,” he says.

“I miss you, too,” says Blaine. “LA is weird. I keep picturing you here with me, thinking about what you’d say.”

“I wish I were there.” Kurt says as he walks over to his bed and lies down. “I mean, I wish that we were together, at least.”

“I should be able to come visit you for your birthday.” Blaine says. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

That awful pressure grows in his chest again, but Kurt can’t push it down. Instead, he turns onto his side and closes his eyes, pretending that Blaine is beside him.

“That would be the best present I could receive,” he says, but it’s a lie. The best present would be for them to be happily married and making their way in life together.

“Well, now you’ve raised the bar,” says Blaine. “Because I can’t just show up and have that be my present. I have to come up with something really good.”

“You will,” Kurt says. “I know you will.”

They talk for a little while about nothing in particular, taking the time to just enjoy each other’s voices. It almost stops hurting when Kurt lets himself go and just listens to Blaine talk. He can almost forget the feeling of having him ripped out of his fingers. Perhaps he can wait those three years until their contract allows them to separate, he thinks. Would it really hold him back that much?

A voice in the back of his head tells him yes, it would. Three years is a long time, especially in the fashion industry. If he wants to make it big by thirty, he has to start pushing now, not later. And besides, what if Blaine and Santana can’t divorce for even longer than that? Maybe they won’t be able to afford it. Maybe they just won’t want to. Maybe Blaine will meet someone else and—

“I hate this,” Kurt says.

Blaine pauses halfway through a sentence and swallows. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“All I’ve heard all day is how I have to get married and I just don’t want to, Blaine, not if it’s not you,” Kurt says, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I mean like, I don’t want to end up like Miss Pillsbury—”

“Or Cooper.”

“Or Cooper, but I don’t want to get married because everyone else decided it was the right time for me. If I do it, it should be because I decided it was right, shouldn’t it? My marriage should be about me and my spouse wanting to spend our lives together, and nothing else.” Kurt’s voice cracks and he wipes a tear from his cheek. He wants to throw up.

“I’m so sorry, Kurt,” Blaine says. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m gonna make this up to you, I promise.”

Kurt sighs. “You don’t have to do anything. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know, I just….” He hears Blaine clear his throat the way he does when he’s trying not to cry. “Time will fly by before we know it, and then we’ll be together.”

“Right,” says Kurt. His chest aches the more he thinks about how much time they have to wait, but he still believes him. He knows that Blaine wants this as much as he does, and that’s comforting. “Listen, it’s getting late.”

“Yeah, and you have a big meeting tomorrow.”

Kurt smiles and sits up. “And you have to continue the apartment search.”

“We’d better find something soon,” Blaine says. “Cooper’s couch has lumps in it, and Santana makes weird raspy sounds in her sleep.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow night and tell you how my meeting went, ok?” says Kurt.

“I can’t wait,” says Blaine. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Kurt says. He hangs up and collapses back onto his bed.

With a groan, he turns over and buries his face into his pillows. He wants to scream or cry or punch something. Anger and heartbreak seethe through his veins with nothing to give them release. Blaine is there, right there, and he can’t have him. He has been taken away by the people who are supposed to love Blaine the most, because they can’t get over their own bigotry to let their son be happy.

Kurt manages to fall asleep after a while. His dreams are fleeting images of weddings, flashing lights, and high walls.

_

The restaurant where Kurt agrees to meet his father is cold. Kurt shivers in his seat in the lounge, debating whether or not to step outside and heat up. He turns to look out one of the tall, glass windows to see the bright sun pounding onto the pavement, and figures he should just stay inside. 

To pass the time, he browses the internet on his phone, looking up every once in a while when he hears the restaurant door open. Kurt tells himself that he’s just looking for his dad, but finds himself eyeing any young man who looks like he could be this lawyer friend’s son. Nervous energy buzzes underneath his skin. He hasn’t felt this way since he auditioned for NYADA. In fact, he might actually feel worse. Back then, he was showcasing his abilities as a performer. Now, he’ll be sized up as a potential spouse. Everything about him could be open for examination. It helps that at least the other guy will be in the same boat, at least. If this guy is particularly awful, Kurt never has to worry about seeing him again. 

His phone buzzes as it receives a text from Rachel.

_Did you meet him yet? Is he cute?_

Kurt rolls his eyes and he texts her back. Rachel’s more excited about this than he is. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to stand it if her dads start taking her to meetings like this.

_My dad’s not even here yet. Calm down._

He looks up when he hears the door open, and the sounds of the busy street outside pour into the lounge. Burt walks in, still in a suit from work in DC. Beside him is a tall, lean man with glasses that Kurt doesn’t recognize. Kurt’s father laughs at something the man says, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Well, if Kurt does marry this guy, at least their parents will get along.

Kurt stands up and waves to catch his father’s eye. Burt smiles, leading the man over to him.

“Hey, kiddo,” Burt says, pulling Kurt in for a hug. Kurt often misses his father’s hugs, so he squeezes him tight, taking the time to relish it.

“Hey, Dad,” says Kurt as they separate. “How was your flight?”

“Great,” says Burt. “No screaming babies or nothing. Kurt, this is my friend Samuel. Samuel, this is Kurt.”

Samuel gives Kurt a firm handshake a grins. “Hello, Kurt. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“You too, sir,” Kurt says, nodding. He glances around, hoping to catch sight of Samuel’s son.

Samuel seems to take the hint and juts his thumb behind him to point at the door. “Sebastian’s tipping the valet. He should be right in.”

“Oh, ok,” Kurt says. He breathes deeply, willing his heart rate to go down. Something about the name  _Sebastian_  rings a bell, but Kurt ignores it.

“So, Kurt,” says Samuel. “I heard you studied fashion at Pratt? That’s a good school.”

“Yes, I did, and it is,” says Kurt. “Now I work at Amelia Fey Designs.”

Samuel frowns, but nods. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about fashion, but I’m sure that’s a great company.”

“You said that Sebastian just finished up at Columbia Law, right?” Burt asks.

“Yes, I did. And Seb just—” Samuel glances behind him a holds out his arm. “Seb! Over here!”

The light from the huge windows is too bright for Kurt to see Samuel’s son clearly as he closes the door behind him, but his silhouette gives Kurt a strange sensation of sweeping deja vu. As Sebastian saunters into the lounge, Kurt’s eyes adjust to the light, and what he sees is almost surreal. Samuel drapes his arm around the shoulder of the drunk asshole wedding crasher that ruined Kurt’s expensive suit pants and made an already horrible night excruciating. 

Kurt’s polite smile falls, and he blinks at Sebastian in shock. Sebastian arches an eyebrow, obviously startled at seeing Kurt again but trying to hide it. Samuel pats Sebastian on the back and grins.

“Seb, tell everyone about how you passed the bar,” Samuel says.

Sebastian shrugs. “There’s not much of a story. The results came out just last week. I’m officially licensed to practice law in the state of New York.”

“But we gotta marry you off before any firm will hire you.” Samuel says, his voice suddenly taking a serious tone. “That’s the way these things work.”

Burt looks back and forth between Kurt and Sebastian. “Do you two know each other?”

Kurt can see panic flash across Sebastian’s face, and decides to step up. There’s no reason to make this meeting anymore awkward than it has to be.

“I think we’ve seen each other around,” Kurt says.

Sebastian smiles and nods, his fear gone like it was never there in the first place. “Right, right. I think I’ve seen you at the Townhouse.”

“Maybe,” Kurt says, knowing full well that he has never set foot in that club. 

“Shall we get a table?” asks Burt, gesturing to the hostess.

Kurt nods, and they make their way over to the dining area. He knew this meeting had the potential of going sour, but he didn’t think it would happen the moment the guy walked through the door. He eyes the back of Sebastian’s head as the hostess leads them to their table. Did he know who he was before this? That doesn’t seem likely, considering that Sebastian seemed just as surprised to see Kurt. He sighs and tries to pull himself together. As much as he doesn’t want to believe this is happening, it is, and he has to deal with it.

He sits down next to his father while Sebastian and Samuel sit across from them. A server pours them all glasses of water, and Kurt eagerly drinks it. It does nothing to help the freezing temperature in the room, and as he swallows, a hard shudder runs through his spine. What the hell is he even going to say? What can they talk about? Maybe if they both just sit here in silence, Burt and Samuel will get the idea and cut the meeting short.

“Now, Burt, what were you saying in the car about the senator and his six-toed cat?” Samuel asks as he unfolds his pristine, white cloth napkin and places it on his lap.

“Hemingway cat,” Kurt says, without thinking. Samuel looks up and blinks. “Um, or polydactyl cat. Dad, tell him.”

Burt launches into a story Kurt’s heard a thousand times before, and Kurt’s grateful for the chance to be silent. Sebastian listens intently, laughing at all the right moments, and sometimes interjecting with humorous quips of his own. If Kurt hadn’t known better, he might find Sebastian charming. However, with every smirk and one-liner, all Kurt can see is the guy so drunk that he spilled cake in Kurt’s lap, dropped his wallet in a lake, and couldn’t find a ride from anyone other than the guy who obviously hated him.

Every once in a while, Sebastian glances back at him with a slight curl in his lip, as if he’s accusing him of something. Kurt matches this look with a subtle sneer of his own before going back to his water. Oh no, how dare Kurt ruin Sebastian’s meeting by _existing_. As if he isn’t doing the same thing to Kurt.

The server comes back and they order. Kurt requests a salad, but finds himself staring at a beautiful slice of strawberry cheesecake on the table next to theirs. He licks his lips and turns away. When all of this is over, he’s going to force Rachel to pig out with him.

“So, Sebastian.” Burt says once his story is over. “What law firms are you looking to apply to?”

Sebastian takes a sip of wine and counts off the firms on his fingers. “Well, there’s Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg, and Holliway, along with Pearson Hardman. I also have an offer from Wolfram and Hart, but, um, only if I get married first.”

“What about Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe?” asks Burt, laughing. “I’m just kiddin’. You know, Kurt’s boss also thinks that he should get hitched.”

Kurt stiffens, clenching his napkin in his hands until his knuckles turn white. They’re not actually going to discuss this, are they? Of course they are. This is why they’re having this meeting in the first place.

“Well, she just, um, reiterated the fact that in order to be seen as a responsible adult in this society, it’s necessary for one to be married,” Kurt says. 

“And what are you looking for in a husband, Kurt?” Samuel asks, tilting his head to the side.

“A partner,” Kurt says. He looks away from Sebastian and stares down at the napkin in his hands. “Someone supportive, and um, kind. I hope that, should I get married, my husband and I will be able to take care of each other.

He looks up to see Burt smiling, Samuel nodding, and Sebastian covering his mouth with his hand, as if it’s the only way to contain his distaste. Kurt sighs and takes another sip of his water.

“What about you, Seb?” asks Burt.

Sebastian takes his hand away from his mouth and scratches the back of his head. “Oh, the same. Definitely.”

Kurt does his best to remain expressionless, knowing that Sebastian is mocking him. What would an asshole like him know about marriage anyway? Tapping his fingers against the table, Kurt looks out one of the windows. Nothing. He knows nothing, and it doesn’t matter because Kurt is not going to marry him.

“Well, I gotta go see a man about a horse,” says Burt, pushing out his chair and standing up.

At the same time, the phone in Samuel’s jacket pocket rings and he pulls it out. “I gotta take this,” he says, and stands up as well.

Burt heads towards the restrooms, while Samuel leaves for the lounge. Kurt suspects that the two orchestrated this to give him and Sebastian some alone time, but doesn’t dwell on it. The idea of their fathers giggling together like kids while they set up their sons is pretty gross.

Sebastian finishes off his wine and places the glass back on the table. He crosses his arms and leans forward. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Excuse me?” Kurt asks.

“You never told me your dad was  _Congressman Burt Hummel_.” Sebastian says through his teeth.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “And you never said whoever the hell your dad is. What does it matter?”

“It matters because my father apparently thinks you’re the best I can do,” says Sebastian.

“Your father thinks very highly of you, then,” Kurt says. 

“Yes, he does,” Sebastian says. “So if you breathe a word of where I was this weekend—”

“You’ll what?” Kurt asks. “Throw your ravioli in my face? Or is food fighting only reserved for cake?”

Sebastian scoffs and throws his hands in the air. “Do you want new pants? I will buy you new fucking pants.”

“I can buy my own pants, thanks,” Kurt says. “What were you even doing there? You said that you were what? Celebrating?”

“Mind your own business, Hummel,” Sebastian snaps, crossing his arms again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Kurt puts his elbow on the table and rests his head in his palm. “Oh my god, I’d rather marry Rick the Stick.”

“Oh, you have a thing for sticks, don’t you, Hummel?” Sebastian says. “Like your boyfriend who married the lesbian. He was—”

“Sex on a stick,” Kurt says, looking up. “Wow, is that like a standard line of yours? It was better when you were drunk.”

“You boys getting along?”

Kurt turns around to see his father as he brushes past a server, pulls out his chair and sits down.

“Oh yes, Congressman,” Sebastian says as a flashing smile replaces his scowl. “Kurt here is a fascinating individual.”

Samuel returns as well, folding closed his cell and tucking it back into his jacket. He slides back into his seat and smiles. “Now, where were we?”

“Actually, I should get going,” Kurt says. “I need to get back to work, you see.”

Sebastian purses his lips, tracing a finger around the rim of his wine glass. “Well, it was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes, you too,” says Kurt. “But I’d better get back before the place falls apart without me.”

Burt looks up at him curiously, and Kurt figures he senses that something’s wrong. “Wanna share a cab, Kiddo?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kurt says, standing up. “Your hotel is on the way, so that should be fine.”

Reaching into his pocket, Burt pulls out his wallet, but Samuel waves his hand dismissively. “I got this one,” he says.

“Then I’ll get the next one,” says Burt and he stands up next to Kurt.

Kurt hopes that if there’s a next one, he isn’t involved. He shakes Samuel’s hand, but just gives Sebastian a wave. Kurt can barely stand to be around the guy, like hell is he going to touch him voluntarily. Turning on his heel, Kurt walks out of the dining area and through the lounge, his father close behind.

Once outside, Kurt juts out his hand to signal a cab. He welcomes the summer heat, closing his eyes for a moment to take it in. People and cars and noise fill the street, and it’s almost a sensory overload after spending so long in the quiet restaurant. The nervous energy rushing through him before has built up into an overwhelming urge to get as far away from Sebastian Smythe as possible. A cab pulls up, and Kurt pulls the door open, letting his father slide in first.

They tell the driver where they need to go and the car rushes back onto the street, weaving through traffic. Kurt rests his forehead on the window and watches the city fly by.

“Is there a reason that took a nose dive while you guys were alone?” Burt asks, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“No,” says Kurt. He sighs and leans back into the chair. “Yes. I do know him, kind of. He’s a jerk. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Burt frowns. “Did he say something to you, or—?”

“It’s not like that.” Kurt says, shaking his head. “Well, it is a little bit. Like I said, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright, Buddy.” Burt says, taking his hand away. “We agreed that if you weren’t ready for this, all you had to do was say so.”

“I  _am_  ready,” says Kurt. He looks up at his father and shrugs. “I just, I don’t know.  I just hate the whole idea of meetings and contracts and stuff.”

Burt smiles. “Yeah, I get that. It’s a lot more complicated than it should be.”

“Was it this bad with you and mom?” Kurt asks. It occurs to him that he has no idea how his parents got together. He never bothered to ask as a child, but now his curiosity is piqued.

“Naw, I was always gonna marry your mom.” Burt says, waving his hand.

Kurt arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, our families were always close,” says Burt. He leans back and smiles at the memory. “Her mom and my mom were friends growing up, and our dads fought in Vietnam together.”

“I didn’t know Grandpa and Pop Pop fought in Vietnam,” Kurt says, frowning. 

He’s never been particularly close to his mother’s parents. They came to his college graduation and send him a card every Christmas, but otherwise he never sees them. It’s almost as if they aren’t really there. To find out that they have this history he never knew about is startling.

“Sure did,” Burt says. “Saved each other’s lives a few times. It was important to them that our families be connected, so I grew up knowing I was gonna marry Frizzy Lizzie down the street.”

Kurt cringes. “Frizzy Lizzie?”

“Yep. You should’ve seen your mom’s hair when she was a kid. It was a monster,” says Burt, laughing.

“But it always looks so nice in the pictures!” says Kurt. He bites his lip and thinks back to the old family photos on the mantle back in Ohio, now mixed up with pictures of Finn, Carole, and their family.

“That’s because she put more gunk on her head than you do,” Burt says.

“Were, um.” Kurt swallows. He doesn’t want to ask this question. He doesn’t want to potentially ruin the image he has of his parent’s marriage, but he knows he has to. Even if the answer isn’t what he’s looking for, it could help him figure things out. “Were you in love?”

Burt looks at him for a moment, and then shrugs. “Not at first.”

“But you did?” Kurt asks. “You did fall in love?”

“We were only twenty when got married,” Burt says. He stares down at his hands, running his fingers together. “And to be honest, neither of us was really that happy about it, but it was what our parents wanted. We were friends, though, for a long time.”

Kurt sits back and lets this sink in. “Then what? What changed?”

“You were born,” Burt says. He reaches over and squeezes Kurt’s hand. “That’s when we really became partners, son. Taking care of you helped us take care of each other. I’m really glad that you said you wanted a partner in there, because that’s what your mother was to me. I loved her, Kurt, and I always will.”

Closing his eyes, Kurt leans into his father’s chest. The pressure that builds in his chest whenever he thinks of Blaine comes back, but it isn’t quite yearning for his boy in California. It begs, pleads for that partner, someone he can take care of and who will take care of him, even if it’s not Blaine.

They arrive at Burt’s hotel and Kurt says his goodbyes after a long hug. He sits in silence the rest of the way to the office, hoping that he’ll be able to make this awful feeling in his heart go away soon. He needs a husband, and soon. But it certainly cannot be Sebastian Smythe.


	3. Chapter 3

The incessant giggles and coos coming from the other side of the office make Kurt want to scream. Harmony holds up a lacy piece of white fabric to her chest while Amelia purses her lips and nods. Somehow it's been decided that Amelia and Harmony will design Harmony's wedding dress together, which means that things at Kurt's workplace are all weddings all the time.

He had hoped that once he left Ohio he would be rid them, but no such luck. Now all Kurt hears about are veils and trains, white versus champagne, lace versus silk. It should be relatively normal talk for a design firm, but the fact that it's for Harmony's wedding drives Kurt up the wall. If he can barely stand this, how will he be able to take the firm releasing an entire bridal line? Amelia hasn't made any official announcements, but it's obviously on her mind.

Kurt actually kind of misses when weddings were fun. Planning everything for his father and Carole had been a blast, and he and Rachel used to spend hours marathoning Say Yes to the Dress. Now, the sight of white dresses gives Kurt a bitter taste in his mouth. He tries to distract himself by working exclusively on menswear for a while, but sometimes Amelia will look over his shoulder and say something about groomsmen.

It's been a few days since his disastrous meeting with Sebastian Smythe. The whole catastrophe still lingers in the back of his mind, like a tacky song he can't get out of his head. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Sebastian's obnoxious smirk. Kurt tells himself it should go away with his next meeting, but that doesn't seem to be happening any time soon.

His father can only be in town for so long and Kurt doesn't want to pressure him, but the fact that he doesn't have any other offers is disconcerting. Is Kurt really that hard to set up? Or does Burt just not know many people with willing and available sons? Kurt resolves to discuss it with him before he leaves for DC today.

For now, all he can do is sit at his desk and sketch. Kurt leans over his drawing, trying to put all of his focus into it, but another burst of laughter from across the office pulls him out of his zone. Kurt sighs and puts his pencil down. He cups his chin in his hands and contemplates putting on his headphones. Perhaps some music will relax him, and he'll actually get some work done.

He perks up when he hears his name. It's not coming from Amelia and Harmony in the corner, but from the receptionist's desk behind him. Kurt turns around to see a delivery guy holding a thin, square, cardboard box and a bouquet of bright, yellow hibiscuses. The receptionist points in his direction, and the delivery guy nods, making his way over. Kurt frowns, thinking he made a mistake. Why the hell would he get flowers? For a moment he thinks that maybe they're going to someone else, but the delivery guy keeps his eyes locked on Kurt.

"Mr. Hummel?" he says when he reaches Kurt's desk. The bouquet is so huge that it threatens to push off the delivery guy's baseball cap.

"Uh, yes?" says Kurt. "Are these for me?"

"Yes sir!" The guy hands him the flowers and places the box on his desk.

Kurt holds the flowers out at arm's length, staring at them. "May I ask who they're from?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," says the guy, shrugging. "I just get them where they're going, you know?"

"Thanks," says Kurt.

With that, the delivery guy heads back to the elevator, leaving Kurt speechless. Part of him feels like he should be excited, like they're from Blaine or perhaps a new marriage prospect, but something about the garish yellow flowers just creeps him out. He lays them down on the desk next to the box. Murmurs draw his attention, and Kurt looks up to see everyone in the office staring at him.

Amelia glides over to him and puts her hand on his shoulder. "Oooh, these are lovely," she says. "Who are they from?"

"I don't know," Kurt says, even though suspicion rises in the back of his mind.

"Well, open up the box," Amelia says. "There might be a note."

Kurt pulls the package over to him and lifts it open. Inside is a pair of grey Armani pants. Tucked into the right pocket is a small envelope.

"Pants?" says Harmony as she walks up next to Amelia. "How, um, romantic. Who would send you pants?"

"Is, is it like a metaphor?" asks another one of Kurt's coworkers, leaning over his desk to get a better look. "Does he want you to get into his pants or something?"

"I really, really hope not," Kurt says. He takes the envelope out of its pocket, tearing it open to get to the note inside. A feeling like his heart is shriveling up like a prune surges through him when he reads it.

Kurt,

I would like to apologize for my behavior. Take these as a gesture of my goodwill. Please call me if you want to start over.

\- Sebastian.

PS. Here's the number of my tailor in case they need to be altered.

Kurt flips the note over to see to phone numbers, one for Sebastian, and one for his tailor. He tucks the note back into the envelope and sinks into his chair. Something is definitely off about this. Admittedly, Kurt doesn't know Sebastian very well, but the tone of voice used in the note seems more like the one he used with Kurt's father than with himself. And the flowers. They're beautiful, but far too over the top. Sebastian Smythe is up to something, and Kurt does not want to be involved.

"So are you gonna call this Sebastian guy?" asks Harmony.

Kurt shakes his head. "No, absolutely not."

"Well, you don't have to call him to start over," Amelia says. She gives Kurt's shoulder a firm squeeze. "But you should probably call him to tell him you don't want him sending you stuff."

"Yeah," says Kurt, closing the box. "Probably."

"Amelia, what do you think of hibiscuses?" asks Harmony as he pulls at one of the petals. "For the flowers at my wedding, I mean."

"Hmm, no. I don't think so. Far too tropical."

For once, Kurt is grateful for Harmony's constant need to make every conversation about her. They walk back over to Harmony's pile of fabrics, and Kurt stands up. He gathers the bouquet up in his arms and heads over to the break room. Once inside, he dumps the flowers in the trash.

There's no way he's going to keep Sebastian Smythe's flowers on his desk. He'll keep the pants, as he does actually need new ones, but not the flowers. They remind him too much of that awful smirk.

There's a cozy little Japanese place about a block away from Burt's hotel. Kurt and his father sit at a table in the corner, with Burt's suitcase occupying the seat next to him. His flight back to DC is in a few hours, and they decided to catch a bite before he leaves. Of course Kurt wants to spend time with his father, but he also wants to get some of this marriage stuff rolling.

He dabs at some teriyaki sauce in the corner of his mouth with his napkin and clears his throat. "So, uh, who are we looking at besides Smythe?"

Burt chews on a fried noodle for a moment before answering. "Well, I haven't really had the chance to look."

"But you do have, like, people to look at, right?" Kurt asks. He twists the napkins in his hands, trying not to think of those yellow flowers abandoned in the trash.

"To be honest, Kurt, I don't spend a lot of time with people looking to set up their boys with other boys," Burt says, picking up another fried noodle and popping it in his mouth. "For most of the people I work with, their kids are either straight or already married. I actually had really high hopes for you and Sebastian."

Kurt winces. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's not your fault," says Burt. "If you say he's a jerk, then I believe you. I know how people act in front of their parents is gonna be different from how they act on their own. Not that I'm sayin' anything about you, of course."

"But why were you so hopeful about him?" Kurt asks. He sits back and takes a sip of his soda. "What did you see in him that I didn't?"

"What I saw was an available guy your age that came from a good family and had a good future," Burt says. "I don't know the kid, but those are few and far between."

"Well, good family and good future does not make a good person," says Kurt, chewing on the end of his straw. Talking about Sebastian made him want to rip something apart with his teeth.

Burt nods. "That's for sure. Another thing is that for a long time, I thought I wouldn't have to find you a husband, so I wasn't looking when I should have been."

"You thought I had found one myself," Kurt says. A lump grows in this throat and Kurt turns to stare at the wall.

He really had found a husband, but he was snatched up right from under him. None of this should be happening. He should be looking at apartments with Blaine, talking about their future, their careers, whether or not they want kids. Kurt should not have to see if a stranger can make a suitable life partner when his best friend can go above and beyond.

Burt reaches across the table and rests his hand over Kurt's. "I know that this is hard, but I promise that I won't stop looking until I find the right guy."

"But who's the right guy?" Kurt asks. "He can't just have a good job and a good family."

"Then let's make a list," says Burt, taking his hand away and smiling. "What exactly are the application requirements for Kurt Hummel's husband?"

Cocking his head to the side, Kurt thinks about it for a moment. "Uh, good job and good family are a plus."

Burt laughs. "Alright. What else?"

"He has to have a good education," Kurt says. "I mean, he doesn't have to come from an ivy league or anything, but he has to be intelligent and open to new ideas. He has to care about bettering himself."

"That works," says Burt, nodding.

"And he has to like music," says Kurt. He smiles and bites his lip. "If he can sing with me, that's a major plus."

"A singer who reads too much, got it," Burt says.

Kurt rolls his eyes, then leans back in his chair. "Yeah, whatever. I want him to have, I don't know, conviction. Things have to matter to him, you know? He can't just go through life without caring about anything."

"But what exactly does he have to care about?" Burt asks.

"I don't know." Kurt says with a shrug. "Me. Politics. The rainforest. Something."

"Does he want kids?" asks Burt. He picks up his chop sticks and tries to grab a piece of broccoli with them, but keeps dropping it. "What about you? Do you want kids?"

"I think I did with Blaine," Kurt says, taking another sip of his soda. "It was less about wanting kids themselves and more about knowing that Blaine would be a good parent. I could see myself raising children with Blaine, but I can't really see myself doing it with just anyone. I definitely can't see myself doing it alone."

Burt gives up on his chopsticks and moves back to his fork. "Kids are a big deal. It used to be standard that contracts required people to have them, unless they absolutely couldn't conceive."

"But it's not standard anymore, right?" says Kurt, panic rushing though him. He does not want to have children if it's not with the right person. "I mean, you wouldn't marry me off to someone who'll make me have kids I don't want."

"Of course not," says Burt. "As much as I want grandkids, I'm not gonna force you into anything you don't want. And I'm definitely not gonna make anybody else do it either."

"Good." Kurt relaxes. "So kids are not a requirement, but if he seems like he'd be a good dad, that's a plus."

"Agreed," says Burt. He holds up his glass and Kurt clinks it with his own. "What about your contract? What do you want on that?"

"Um, well, I want to be able to separate within three years," Kurt says. He avoids his father's eyes, feeling a little guilty for talking about leaving his husband before he's even met him.

"Three years is when Blaine and Santana can split up, isn't it?" Burt asks.

Kurt nods, looking at his nails and trying to push his guilt away.

"Kid, have you made Blaine any promises?" Burt asks. "Did you tell him you were gonna split with whoever you marry eventually?"

"Um, not explicitly," Kurt says.

"Because these guys and their families aren't looking for someone who's only gonna be there for three years," says Burt, frowning. "They're looking for someone who's gonna be there for life."

"Well, I don't know what's gonna happen!" Kurt snaps. "They just, they have to understand what I have with Blaine, okay? They have to understand that I'm always gonna love him and want to be with him."

Kurt folds his arms across his chest, as if to physically protect his heart from the pain of his and Blaine's separation. His guilt dissolves into anger, heat rising up in his cheeks. He doesn't really want to admit to his father that he basically wants an open marriage, but it's true. He needs this more than anything else from his husband.

Burt continues to frown at him for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to his food. "I'll see what I can do, kiddo."

"Thanks," says Kurt. That heart-shriveling anxiety returns, and Kurt has to admit that his father is right. He's been thinking of this marriage as a temporary thing, just a speed bump he has to go over before he can get to Blaine, but it's not. Can he really look into someone's eyes and lie about being with them forever?

Looking at his watch, Burt puts down his fork. "I'd better get goin' if I don't want to miss my flight."

"Alright," says Kurt. "Do you want me to ride with you to the airport?"

"No," say Burt, taking out his wallet to pay for their meal. "I can make it on my own. Besides, you gotta get back to work."

"I'm actually gonna head home," Kurt says. He picks up his glass and finishes off his drink. "I need a mental health day."

Leaving a few bills on the table and picking up his suitcase, Burt stands up. Kurt does the same, following him out of the restaurant and onto the street. They hug, and make promises to see each other again soon. Perhaps Kurt can come up to DC some time, or maybe they can just Skype.

Kurt hails a cab for him and waves as it drives his father away. He doesn't want him to go. Part of him feels like a kid dropped off on their first day of daycare, crying and screaming for their daddy not to leave them alone in this strange place. But Kurt is not a child, and he hasn't lived with his father in years. He knows and loves New York, and it isn't where he feels like he's being abandoned. It's the future. It's with whatever stranger he's supposed to pledge his life to.

When he gets home, Kurt finds Rachel sitting at the kitchen table. Relief washes over him, and he collapses against the front door.

"You will not believe what happened to me today," he says, dropping his bag to the floor. "Sebastian Smythe sent me flowers and pants. I threw out the flowers, they just reeked of trying too hard, but I'm keeping the pants. That asshole owes me pants."

Rachel doesn't respond. Kurt looks up and sees that she's staring at a small, blue-green box on the table. She keeps it a few feet away from her, as if she doesn't want to touch it. It takes a moment before the significance of the box's pale color hits him, and Kurt's knees go week.

"Uh, why is there a Tiffany box on our table?" Kurt asks, approaching her slowly. He eyes the box suspiciously, like it could explode any second.

"I thought that maybe it was from Finn," says Rachel. "But on further inspection, I'm pretty sure it's for you."

Kurt sinks into the chair next to her. "Oh god, no. He didn't."

"He did," Rachel says. She folds her hands neatly and turns to face him. "He's either got it bad, or he's trying to bribe you."

"Well, what is it?" Kurt asks, his hands shaking as he pulls the box towards him. "Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe it's just like, cufflinks or something."

Rachel closes her eyes and shakes her head. "It's bad. It's really bad."

"You opened it?" Kurt arches an eyebrow and she throws up her hands in defense.

"I thought it was from Finn!"

"As if Finn can afford anything from Tiffany," Kurt says.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt picks up the box and opens the lid. His heart skips a beat at the sight of what's inside. It's a gorgeous dragonfly brooch, with a body encrusted with diamonds and little round sapphires for eyes. Rachel lets out a whimper when the light hits the gems just right and they sparkle.

"Is, um, is it silver?" Kurt asks. "Tell me it's silver and not-"

"Platinum," Rachel says. "It's heavier than it would be with silver, so I'm pretty sure it's platinum."

"Oh my god," Kurt says and he carefully places the box back down. "Oh my god, this isn't happening."

"It came with this," Rachel says, pulling out a small, familiar envelope from her pocket.

Kurt snatches it from her and rips it open. Inside he finds a note in Sebastian's sharp handwriting.

I heard you weren't into rings.

"The fuck?" Kurt says, gaping at the note. "Where would he hear that? Who has he been talking to?"

"Maybe your dad told his dad, who told him?"Rachel suggests with a shrug. She sighs. "It's really nice, Kurt. Maybe you should call him? You know, just to say thanks?

"Oh, I'm calling him alright," Kurt says, snapping the lid down over the brooch. "I'm calling him so I can give it back. He can't keep sending me shit like this, okay?"

"But I thought you liked big, romantic gestures like this!" Rachel says. She pulls the box toward herself, as if to cover it from Kurt's harsh words. "What about the ring Blaine gave you?"

"That ring was made out of gum wrappers," says Kurt, pushing out his chair and standing up. "And I love Blaine, and Blaine loves me. Sebastian and I are not in love. I do not appreciate creepy, over the top gifts from a guy who's been nothing but a jerk to me."

"You said he got you pants?" Rachel asks, idly opening the box again to admire the brooch inside. "Was there a note with them, too?"

"Yeah, he said he wanted to start over," Kurt says as he walks back over to the door and picks up his bag. He unzips it and shoves his arm in to search for his phone. "It was like, really forced somehow. I can't explain it."

He pulls out his phone and the cardboard box containing his new pair of Armani pants, and heads over to the kitchen counter. Kurt throws the box open and grabs the note stuffed into the right pocket. Punching the number into his phone, anger bubbles up inside him like lava. The pants he appreciated, the flowers were nice, if weird, but this brooch? It was insulting.

The phone rings and Kurt puts it up to his ear. He taps his foot against the tile floor, trying to find any sort of release from this seething aggravation. There's a beep, and the message for Sebastian's voicemail plays.

"Sebastian, it's Kurt," he says. "We need to talk about these inappropriate gifts you keep sending me. It's fucking creepy, okay? Take the brooch back. Thanks."

He hangs up, tossing his phone in the box with his pants. Walking back over to the table, he slams the lid on the Tiffany box closed, narrowly missing Rachel's fingertips.

"Hey!" she says.

Kurt ignores and picks the box up before heading to his room.

"Maybe we can see how it looks with your dark gray blazer?" Rachel asks and Kurt shuts the door behind him. He puts the box up on a shelf next to his other brooches and pins, then turns around and falls into his bed. This is ridiculous. Someone told Sebastian about what Kurt did and didn't like. He doubts it was his father relaying information through Samuel. No, it was probably someone at work. Kurt cringes into his pillow as he imagines Sebastian sweet-talking one of his coworkers.

There's a knock on the door. Rachel cracks it open and pokes her head inside. She holds up Kurt's phone.

"Kurt?" she says. "You have a text."

Kurt sits up and holds his arms open. Rachel tosses it, and lands on the bed, just a few inches from Kurt's knee. He shrugs and picks it up, reading the text.

Kurt, let's talk. Can you meet me at the Starbucks on 14th st in 30 min?

"Well?" Rachel asks, bouncing on her feet. "Are you gonna go see him?"

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Kurt stares at the message and thinks about it. He sighs and texts back.

Fine. See you in 30.

"So?" says Rachel. She bounces over to Kurt's bed and sits down next to him. "Are you going? Do you want me to come with you?"

"Yes, I'm going," Kurt says, pushing her away so he can get off the bed. He sends Sebastian a quick text agreeing to see him. "And no, you are not coming along."

"Oooh, but I want to meet him!" Rachel says. She presses her palms together like in prayer. "Please? Pretty please? I'll be good, I promise."

Kurt shakes his head as he takes the Tiffany box off the shelf. "Absolutely not. This is about him and me, nobody else."

"You make it sound like you're having a showdown," Rachel says, smiling. "It's kind of romantic."

"I don't know what grocery store harlequin novel you got your idea of romance from," says Kurt. "But you should burn it."

He leaves his room, heading through the kitchen to the door. Rachel jumps off the bed and follows him.

"Can I sing at your wedding?" she asks. "What kind of songs does Sebastian like?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," says Kurt, shooting her a look.

Tossing the Tiffany box into his bag, Kurt leaves his apartment. The closest subway station is only a few blocks away, but right now it feels like miles. He wouldn't say that he lived in a bad neighborhood, but someone did get mugged around the corner last week. The piece of jewelry that must cost upwards of a thousand dollars makes Kurt hyper-aware of his surroundings. Kurt forces himself to appear relaxed, but keeps one hand steady on his shoulder strap.

The subway was something Kurt had to get used to when he first moved to New York. Originally, he had been intimidated by this dark, crowded place filled with confusing signs and creepy buskers. It did not fit his romantic idea of what the city should be. However, necessity forced him to take the train more often than cabs, and the subway became just as much a part of New York as Time Square or Central Park.

As he makes his way down the stairwell and into the station, Kurt clutches the bag closer to his body. He's used to, and even appreciates, parts of the subway now, but the idea of losing this brooch when he just wants to give it back sets his teeth on edge.

Much to his relief, the ride over to Union Square is uneventful. The sun shines blindingly when he leaves the station, making Kurt over his eyes with his hand. He looks around at the many shops and restaurants for the Starbucks where he agreed to meet Sebastian. Once he spots it, he takes a deep breath and crosses the street.

The door brushes over a bell when it opens, making it ring. Kurt scans the coffee shop for Sebastian, and spots him at a table in the corner, sipping at a latte. His stomach twists at the sight of him, and Kurt clenches his jaw as he maneuvers through the see of people and chairs to Sebastian's table. Sebastian looks up at him and smiles.

"Kurt," he says. "I'm glad you could make it."

"There's not need to play nice," says Kurt as he sits down across from him. "I'm only here to give this back."

He opens his bag and takes out the Tiffany box, sliding it across the table towards Sebastian. Hardly giving it a look, Sebastian pushes it aside.

"I have a proposal for you," he says.

Kurt shakes his head. "I don't care what proposal you have for me, Sebastian. We're not starting over and I'm definitely not marrying you."

Turning away, Sebastian rubs his hand over his eyes. "Will you please just shut the fuck up and listen?"

"There's the man I know and loathe," Kurt says with a smile. "I knew Mr. Polite in those notes wasn't the real you."

"Please just hear me out," says Sebastian, placing his hands flat on the table as if to calm himself down. "Whether we like it or not, we both have to get married."

"Preferably to other people," says Kurt.

"Yeah, whatever," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes. "As if anyone is gonna live up to your standards of being the perfect partner who takes care of you, especially nice you're still gaga for gel-head back in Ohio."

"For your information, Blaine moved to LA," Kurt says. He pushes the Tiffany box back over to Sebastian. "Can you take this back now so I can leave and never see you again?"

Sebastian sighs. "My father has stopped looking."

Kurt blinks, and then frowns. "What?"

"Every time he's tried to set me up with someone, it hasn't worked out," Sebastian says, taking another sip of his latte.

"Gee, I wonder why," says Kurt.

"And now he says that he's found the perfect guy," Sebastian says with a sneer. "Oh, Kurt Hummel, fashion designer son of a congressman. He even called you fuckable."

Kurt jumps back a little bit, startled. "Dear god, I hope he didn't say that to my father."

"He says that you're it." Sebastian looks up at the ceiling and sighs. "He says that if I can work it out with you, then he's cutting me off."

"Well, um, I'm sorry your dad sucks," says Kurt. "But I have no intentions of-"

"I can't be your partner," Sebastian says, closing his eyes. "I'm not going to support you, or give a fuck about anything you do. But being married to me will get you money and connections. You'll live in a big house and we'll only see each other when we absolutely have to."

Kurt swallows, letting this sink in. "I need to be able to see Blaine."

"No problem," says Sebastian. "You could have a secret family in Canada for all I care, as long as I get a ring on my finger."

"I'm not, that's not what marriage is supposed to be," Kurt says, his voice trembling. The offer is tempting, but Kurt still has his principals.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "And just what is it supposed to be? Two lovebirds making a vow of love and commitment? Grow up, Kurt. This is a business transaction."

Picking at his nails, Kurt stalls, not sure what to say. This certainly seems like an easy way out, but is it worth it?

"Come on," Sebastian says. "It's the same arrangement my parents have, and they're fine. They don't even live together half the time."

"Why don't they just divorce, then?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian shrugs. "From what I've seen in their contract, they need like an actual reason, like abuse or my dad not being able to pay for shit anymore. Since that's not happening, they continue to be happily married an ocean apart."

"An ocean apart?"

"My mother spends most of her time in our house in Paris." Sebastian says.

"Would that be our contract?" asks Kurt, biting his lip. "No divorce without a reason?"

"Probably," Sebastian says. "That's up to our parents, really."

"I- no." Kurt shakes his head, and then wrings his hands. "I don't know."

"Why don't you take some time to think about it?" says Sebastian. He finishes his latte and stands up.

"The brooch-" Kurt says, but Sebastian waves his hand.

"Keep it," he says. "It's a birthday present."

With that, Sebastian leaves Kurt alone at their table, visions of their potential life together flashing before his eyes.

"And this," Blaine says as he turns his laptop to face away from him, "is the bathroom."

Kurt lies on his bed, resting his chin in his hands and watching as Blaine gives him a tour of his and Santana's new apartment over Skype. The bathroom is tiny, and desperately in need of some decor, but at least it's clean.

"Are you and Santana gonna be able to handle sharing?" Kurt asks.

The image on his computer shakes as Blaine turns it back to him. "As long as we keep to our schedules, we should be fine." Blaine smiles at the camera. "And here's my lovely wife now! Say hi to Kurt, San."

Propping himself on his elbows, Kurt waves as Santana crowds in next to Blaine.

"Hey, Kurt," she says. "How's my favorite porcelain diva?"

"Beleaguered, but fabulous." Kurt smiles, noticing her lipstick and large hoop earrings. "You look nice. Whatchya all dolled-up for?"

"Santana has a day-ate!" Blaine says, stretching the word out in a singsong voice.

"I do not," says Santana, rolling her eyes and walking away off screen. "It's not a date."

"Of course not." Blaine looks past the camera and shakes his head, only to turn back to Kurt and nod. "It totally is."

He hears a door in the distance slam, and Kurt figures Santana has left. "Wait, what about Brittany?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs and sits down on the floor, setting the laptop down on the milk crates currently being used as a coffee table. "Brittany's engaged, and her contract says no extramarital relations."

"That's awful," says Kurt. "Poor Santana."

"I actually think she and Brittany had been growing apart for a while, anyway," Blaine says. He crosses his legs and leans back with a sigh. "It's sad when that happens."

"But, but that's not happening to us," Kurt says, forcing confidence.

Blaine smiles. "Nope, never."

"I, um, actually have something I need to talk to you about," Kurt says. He sits up and reaches for the Tiffany box on the other side of the bed. "I talked to Sebastian again today."

"Really? What did he have to-" Blaine stops and holds up a hand to point at his screen. "Kurt, why do you have a box that particular shade of blue?"

"Because Sebastian Smythe is a creep who tries way too hard," Kurt says. He opens it and holds it out for Blaine to see. "Isn't this ridiculous?"

Blaine's mouth falls open in shock. "Oh wow. That's really beautiful, Kurt."

"Beautifully obscene," Kurt says. "You should have been there. He basically tried to buy me."

"Buy you?" Blaine asks. He uncrosses his knees and pulls them up to his chest.

"Yeah, he went on and on about how we wouldn't have to see each other and I'd live in a big house." Kurt says, waving his hand in the air. "And something about a secret Canadian family. I don't even know."

"Damn," says Blaine. "Are, are you gonna take it?"

"No. I mean, um." Kurt sighs. "I have to admit that it's tempting, but it's not what I want."

"Well, what is it that you do want?" Blaine asks, cocking his head to the side.

"You," says Kurt with a smile.

Blaine smiles back, blushing into his knees. He looks up again, suddenly serious. "But you do have to get married soon, don't you? Has Burt found anyone else?"

"We went over what kind of guy I was looking for," says Kurt. "But I kind of just described you."

"I just, I, I don't know," Blaine says, hugging his knees again. "I want you to be happy and find a good husband, but I also want to be your good husband, you know?"

"I know," Kurt says quietly. "I know."

Blaine gulps. "And what about, I mean, let's say you marry this Sebastian guy, and after three years when I can split up Santana, you've gotten used to the lifestyle that he can give you. I can't afford diamond dragonflies, Kurt. Santana and I stole these milk crates. We stole them."

"Blaine, honey, this dragonfly is expensive and beautiful, but its intentions are practically sinister. This?" Kurt sits up and grabs the gum wrapper ring from his bedside table. "This ring right here? It's worth more than all the diamonds in the world to me, and it was given with nothing but love. I'd rather live in a tiny studio apartment with you than in a penthouse with Sebastian."

Blaine smiles again, his eyes glistening. "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I love you, too," Kurt says. "Now, it might be only nine over there, but its midnight here. I have to get to bed."

"Alright," Blaine says. "Good night." Blaine presses a kiss to his palm and blows it at the screen.

Kurt grins and blows him a kiss back. "Goodnight."

He closes the laptop and sighs. Eyeing the glittering brooch with disdain, he slams the lid shut and climbs out of bed to put it with his other accessories. Even if Sebastian did call it a birthday present, Kurt still doesn't feel comfortable having it around. It's the implication that he can be bribed into marriage that disgusts him the most. Who does Smythe think he is, sending him shit like this? Who does Sebastian even think Kurt is? Some kid looking for a sugar daddy?

Kurt shudders and shakes his head before going back to his bed. He picks up the gum wrapper rings and returns it to its place on his bedside table. As much as he appreciates pieces of fine jewelry, its gifts made with love that really captures his heart. Blaine's ring came with the promise to always love and cherish him. Sebastian's brooch promised that he would be ignored unless it was otherwise necessary.

Pulling the covers over his body, Kurt gazes at the ring for a little while longer. It seems just like yesterday that they were making promises like that. The pressure in his chest burns, and Kurt wants to go back in time and scream at them for being so stupid, for thinking that the future was theirs to shape. Then again, the memory of that Christmas remains perfect in his mind, a separate reality where everything can go as planned. Kurt rolls over and closes his eyes, wishing that he could dream of that reality and never wake up.

Kurt spends most of Saturday morning lazing on the sofa, watching Rachel rehearse for her Funny Girl audition, which may or may not actually happen. It's almost noontime, and she's still going through her routine. She dances back and forth across the apartment, twirling around the kitchen island before leaping back to the living room, belting her heart out. Kurt expects complaints from the neighbors within ten minutes.

She finishes the last note and drops herself onto floor, resting her head against Kurt's leg. "I have to tell you something."

Kurt yawns, contemplating opening the windows to let in a little breeze. "Shoot."

"While we were back in Lima for the wedding," says Rachel, closing her eyes tight. "I had a meeting."

"What kind of meeting?" Kurt asks.

"You know what kind!" Rachel says, snapping her head back to look at him.

Kurt raises his eyebrows. "Wait, really? Does Finn know?"

"No," says Rachel. She whimpers and buries her face in one of the sofa cushions. "He doesn't know anything. I didn't think it would amount to anything, but..."

"But what?" Kurt asks. "Also, this happened while we were in Lima? That is an exceptionally long time for you to keep a secret."

Rachel sniffs and looks up at him. "He, he's a theater producer and he said that he'd love to produce shows centered all around me. He says I'm a real star, Kurt."

"Um, then go for it?" Kurt says, throwing up his hands. "I love Finn, but he's not going to leave Lima any time soon."

"But what about love?" Rachel asks. "My marriage was supposed to be a romance that inspired novels that then inspired epic Broadway productions!"

"And you thought you would have that with, um, Finn?" asks Kurt. "I mean, is this guy legit? Can he really push you into stardom? If so, I'd say yes."

"Don't act like it's that simple, Kurt," Rachel says, sitting up and pushing Kurt's leg away. "If it were, you'd be eloping with Sebastian as we speak."

"Ok, do not compare-" Kurt stops when he hears the sound of his phone receiving a text message. He sighs and pushes himself off the couch. "Blaine and I are not you and Finn, and you and this guy are not Sebastian and me. There is no Sebastian and me."

He walks over to the kitchen counter and picks up his phone, frowning when he sees who it's from.

"Who is it?" Rachel asks, perking up.

"Sebastian."

"Sebastian?" Rachel asks. "As in 'there is no me and Sebastian' Sebastian?"

"Yes," says Kurt. "Shut up."

I need you to look at my car for me.

Kurt stares at the message, wondering if he got it by mistake. He sighs and responds.

Uh, why me?

He puts the phone down, but the second it leaves his hand, it beeps.

Your dad owns a car shop, doesn't he? Just get over here and tell me what's wrong.

I don't even know where you live.

"What does he want?" Rachel asks. "Is he gonna just take you to Tiffany's this time, so you can pick out what you want?"

"Apparently he thinks I'm his personal mechanic," says Kurt, rolling his eyes. "Who even has a car in the city?"

"He has a car? Is it nice?"

"Rachel, shut up," Kurt says. "It doesn't matter how nice his car is."

His phone beeps again, this time with Sebastian's address and instructions to meet him in the garage.

"What makes him think I'm even available?" Kurt asks, gesturing at his phone as if he held Sebastian in his hand.

Rachel glances around the apartment. "Um, are you unavailable?"

Kurt scowls and tells Sebastian he'll be there in a few.

Blinking up at the building towering above him, Kurt scowls. He really shouldn't be here. He should be sketching, sewing, shopping, anything other than helping some guy he can barely stand with his car. Kurt pushes his hair back out of his face and climbs up the concrete stairs into the garage next to the apartment building. His footsteps echo off the walls, and Kurt gives into temptation, doing a little tap dance move just appreciate the acoustics.

"Congratulations, you can make noise with your feet."

Kurt turns to see Sebastian across the garage, leaning against a silver sports car. He rolls his eyes and walks over, his boots clicking with every step.

"We're not engaged," says Kurt as he approaches. "We're not even friends. You can't just summon me like a genie whenever you wish."

"And yet, you're here," Sebastian says. He lifts himself up off the car. "This piece of shit won't start."

Kurt holds out his hand. "Give me the keys."

Sebastian tosses the keys to Kurt and steps away. He opens the car door for Kurt, who slides into the leather seat. The upholstery is soft and smooth, and the structure of the seat seems to conform to his body. For a moment, Kurt just wants to sit back and melt into the car, but Sebastian clears his throat and pulls him out of his trance. He puts the key in the ignition and turns it. Nothing. Kurt leans forward and turns it again, listening.

"You hear that click?" he asks. "That's the starter solenoid."

"And I'm guessing it's not supposed to click?" Sebastian says flatly.

"It's trying to start the motor, but it doesn't have enough power," Kurt says. He takes out the key and turns the dial for the headlights, but once again there's nothing. "There's not even enough power for the lights."

Sebastian grumbles and leans against the car again. "What does that mean?"

"It means your battery is dead," Kurt says. "You need to take it to the shop to see if it needs to be replaced."

"Goddamn it!" Sebastian says, kicking a tire and slamming hand down on the car. "I just bought this thing."

"Well, my work here is done," says Kurt as he climbs out of the seat.

"Hey, hey, don't leave," Sebastian says, curling his lip as if the very notion were insulting. "What is wrong with you? Let's get lunch."

"Lunch?" Kurt asks. His eyes flicker back to the car and he takes a step back. "Oh god, you didn't like, take out the battery just to get me to come over here, did you?"

"What? No. Don't be weird," Sebastian says as he starts to walk towards the exit. "I just took advantage of an otherwise shitty situation. C'mon."

Kurt sighs and follows him, covering his eyes from the sun when they step out of the garage. "So where are we going?"

"How does Carlisle's sound?" asks Sebastian, holding up his hand to hail a cab.

"What are you-" Kurt rolls his eyes and sighs. "That place is only like, four miles from here. Let's take the subway."

Sebastian looks at him like he just suggested he lick the sidewalk. "Are you kidding? As if I'm going to set one fit in that diseased hell hole."

"Oh my god," Kurt says, rubbing his forehead. "Are you seriously afraid of the subway? What kind of New Yorker are you?"

"I'm not afraid of it, asshole," Sebastian says, dropping his hand. "I just happen to be better than the fucking subway."

Kurt shakes his head and brushes past him, fully intent on getting as far away from Sebastian as possible. "Right, as if cabs don't have their own quota of germs and bodily fluids to fill."

"At least with cabs, I'm always guaranteed a seat," Sebastian says as he catches up with Kurt. "And I don't have to worry about brushing fingers with some lowlife holding onto the pole."

"Oh no, heaven forbid someone accidentally makes skin-to-skin contact with Sebastian Smythe," Kurt says. "They might get their poorness on you."

Sebastian responds with a quip about the train's constant construction and delays, while Kurt says something about city traffic. They continue to argue for a few blocks, the topic evolving from public transportation to buskers ("It's like, get a fucking job, morons." "Performing is their job, dipshit."), and then to music tastes ("I can't believe you like Smooth Criminal over Thriller." "Smooth Criminal is the perfect music video. Thriller doesn't even compare."), and finally fashion.

"At least I don't dress like a spoiled frat boy," says Kurt, eyeing Sebastian's popped collar.

"No, you actually manage to dress like a one man pride parade," Sebastian says. "How many pastels can one man own?"

Kurt scoffs. "Are you colorblind? I'm wearing navy blue!"

"Yes, with little lavender accents," says Sebastian. "Very masculine."

"You know what?" Kurt says. "Why don't you just- oh, hey."

He stops in front of a cute little French cafe. The smell of pressed sandwiches and fresh baked pastries wafts out the front door, making Kurt's mouth water.

"Yeah, this place'll do," Sebastian says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and going inside.

Kurt welcomes the cool blast of air conditioning as they find themselves a table. Sitting down in a wicker chair, Kurt crosses his legs and relaxes. Even if Sebastian frustrates him to no end, that doesn't mean he can enjoy the cafe's atmosphere. Classical music filters through the speakers, and Kurt closes his eyes to take a moment to pretend he's here alone.

A waitress comes and hands them their menus and takes their drink order. Kurt requests a mimosa, while Sebastian asks for some foreign-sounding liqueur that it's probably way too early for. Once the waitress leaves to retrieve their order, Kurt realizes that he can't quite think of anything else to argue about with Sebastian. They exhausted so many topics on the walk over that they appear to have run dry. Now they sit in awkward silence, broken only by the cafe's music and Sebastian tapping his foot.

Kurt picks up his menu and stares at it for a moment, as if it will give him something to say. "The French onion soup looks good."

"Hmm." Sebastian nods. "I'm thinking the merguez sandwich."

"How did you know I wasn't into rings?" Kurt says suddenly. The question had been in his mind since he read Sebastian's note, but he never thought to ask until now.

"What? Oh, my friend Thad is engaged to a girl who works at your label," Sebastian says without looking up from his menu. "Faith or Hope or something. It's one of those virtue names."

"Harmony?" Kurt suggests.

"Yeah, that." Sebastian sets his menu down. "She was drunk and wouldn't shut up. I half expected her to give me your social."

"If Harmony has my social, then I'm surprised she hasn't ruined me yet," Kurt says. He clenches his jaw at the thought of her and looks away.

"Perhaps she's saving it for the right time," says Sebastian. "To be honest, I don't even know how she and Thad got together, considering all the boys he drooled over back at Dalton."

"Well, you know. Parents aren't always keen to-wait, Dalton?" Kurt looks up at him and frowns.

"Yeah, that was the school we went to back in Ohio," Sebastian says. "Why, do you know it?"

"I actually attended it for a few months my junior year," Kurt says. The waitress returns with their drinks, and Kurt accepts his glass graciously. "That's where I met Blaine. We were Warblers together before we both transferred back to McKinley."

"Really?" Sebastian asks, smiling. "I was a Warbler, but I don't remember you. Then again, I started during the 2011-2012 year."

"I was there between 2010 and 2011," says Kurt. "Must've missed you."

"You said you transferred to McKinley?" asks Sebastian as he takes a sip of his drink. "Didn't they have a glee club? The Nude Erections or something?"

Kurt laughs. "The New Directions. I was a member."

"You guys were terrible," says Sebastian, sitting back as if in shock. "I have no idea how you beat us."

"Faith, heart, and Rachel Berry," says Kurt with a smile.

The waitress returns again for their food order. Kurt is much hungrier now that he's in the cafe than he was when they were just walking. A display under the counter showcases some particularly ravishing éclairs, and Kurt hopes he can stand Sebastian long enough to stay for dessert.

"So, why didn't you become a performer, since you respect them so much," Sebastian asks. "Even when they're just vagrants asking for free money."

"They're not vagrants," says Kurt, sneering. "It's not an easy path, and they're doing what they need to do to get buy. They're following their dreams, even if it's hard. I can't not respect that."

"And what, it was too hard for you?" says Sebastian as he cocks his head to the side.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "No, I just... I realized that I had other dreams to pursue. What about you, Warbler? Did law school kill the song in your heart?"

"I wasn't in the Warblers because I cared about art, or whatever," Sebastian says. "It was simply what it took to make it to the top at that school. I've always had the urge to, I don't know, be better and climb higher."

"And that's why you became a lawyer?" Kurt asks, leaning over and resting his chin in his palm. "Because you wanted to... be the best?"

"No, I'm a lawyer because my father is a lawyer," Sebastian says, and Kurt immediately cringes. "Don't fucking look at me like that. I'm happy to do this. It's my duty as a Smythe man. I'd also like to go into politics, which is why becoming your father's son-in-law is advantageous."

Kurt frowns. "You do know that my dad's political track is different than most, right?"

"How?" Sebastian asks. "He ran for office, and he won. What's different?"

"He ran because literally ever other candidate was a complete nightmare," Kurt says. "And he realized that he had to step up. He had something he needed to fight for."

Sebastian purses his lips and looks down at his nails. "If you say so."

"Do you have something to fight for?" Kurt asks.

"I'd like to fight for my salmon to get here faster," Sebastian says. He sits up and looks over to the kitchen, scowling.

"It's coming," says Kurt, sinking back into his seat. "Jesus, let them cook it first."

They share another few minutes of silence, but it's less awkward now. Their food eventually comes, and Kurt eagerly digs in. At their previous lunch, Kurt had been too anxious to eat much, but now he doesn't need to worry about making an impression. If Sebastian still wants to marry him after eating this and a whole cheesecake, then hell, maybe it's a match.

"Passing the bar," Sebastian says after a while.

Kurt looks up at him and frowns. "What?"

"You were wondering what I was celebrating when I crashed your boyfriend's wedding," Sebastian says. "It was passing the bar."

"Oh," says Kurt, putting down his fork.

"I thought I'd come home to celebrate with my parents, but they weren't home," Sebastian says. He picks at his meal and sighs. "Dad was in DC and Mom was in Paris."

"And they didn't tell you?" Kurt asks.

"My family doesn't talk about anything," Sebastian says, shrugging. "It was stupid of me to assume they'd be in Ohio without checking anyway."

"So, you just decided to crash a wedding?" asks Kurt, arching an eyebrow.

Sebastian looks up and swallows, pausing as if he isn't sure what to say. "I don't really like to be alone."

"And you took your loneliness out on my pants," says Kurt. "How nice."

"I bought you new ones!" Sebastian says, throwing his hands up in the air. "Is that not good enough?"

Kurt laughs. "I'm just-"

"You know what? Here." Sebastian reaches over, grabs Kurt's mimosa, and splashes it on his own chest. Champagne and orange juice spill over his polo, soaking it through.

His mouth falling open in shock, Kurt lets his fork drop from his hand and onto his plate. A waitress rushes over with a handful of napkins, but Sebastian holds up a hand to stop her.

"Nope," he says. "This is between me and him."

She stares at them for a second and backs away. Kurt takes a deep breath and clears his head.

"You did not have to do that," Kurt says.

Sebastian smiles and shrugs. "I didn't like this shirt anyway."

They continue their meal, Sebastian drying himself off with his own napkin as much as he can before giving up. Kurt finds as time goes on that when neither of them are being deliberately argumentative, Sebastian is actually pretty easy to talk to. He tells him stories about Blaine, and Rachel, and rest of his high school glee club, along with weird tales of art school adventures. Sebastian returns the favor with accounts of weird law cases he learned about in his studies.

When they finish and the waitress gives them their check, Kurt remembers Sebastian's offer again, and this time it hardly sounds like he's being bought at all. However, he isn't sure if he's quite ready dive right in.

"Hey," he says as he and Sebastian push out their chairs and stand up. "I'm not making any promises; I'm just throwing this out there, ok?"

Sebastian frowns. "Okay?"

"I keep going back and forth about whether or not I want to get married," Kurt says. He hand Sebastian walk side by side out the door. "But I do know that I need to at least get people off my back about it, and I think you do too. I mean, your dad said that no one will hire you, right?"

"Unfortunately," says Sebastian.

"So what if we, um, had a sort of," Kurt takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts, "extended engagement? Like we can tell people we're getting married, but we put it off for like a year or so, to see what we actually want to do."

As they turn to make their way back to Sebastian's building, Sebastian scratches the back of his head.

"Seems like it could work," he says. "I'll have to think about it."

"Right," says Kurt. "We should both just take the time to think about it and-"

"One condition," says Sebastian, stopping in his tracks.

Kurt stops a few steps ahead of him and looks back. "What?"

"Kiss me, first," Sebastian says.

"Excuse me?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian takes a step forward and smiles. "I would at least like to know if my future husband is a good kisser."

"I can assure you," says Kurt, rolling his eyes and looking away. "My kissing skills are more than sufficient.

He freezes when Sebastian's hand comes up to rest on his jaw. Letting Sebastian turn his head, Kurt meets his eyes and sighs. This is stupid, he thinks, but he realizes that he's not exactly pushing him away. Instead, he leans forward and presses his mouth to Sebastian's, applying a firm and steady pressure. Sebastian smiles into the kiss, opening his mouth and snaking in his tongue. It's surprisingly soft, and Kurt feels something his chest start to flutter.

Kurt breaks the kiss and steps away. "Is that good enough for you?"

"It'll do," Sebastian says. "So, we're thinking about it?"

"We're thinking about it," says Kurt with a nod.

With that they go their separate ways. Sebastian goes back to his building, while Kurt takes the subway back to Brooklyn. All the way there, Kurt focuses on the steady rhythm of the speeding train and ignores the question in the back of his mind; how is he going to explain this to Blaine and his father?


	4. Chapter 4

Almost one blissful week of peace goes by before Kurt sees Sebastian again. He steps just outside the front door of his office building, punching out a text to Rachel, when a black town car comes screeching up to the curb. Kurt eyes it for moment, wondering how the city manages to so heinously corrupt people's driving habits, before the backseat window rolls down and Sebastian pokes out his head. Kurt's stomach drops. Almost one week of free of demanding texts and weird gifts ruined in ten seconds.

"Get in," Sebastian barks.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I'd rather not, thanks."

He continues down the sidewalk, forcing Sebastian to open the door and step out of the car. Running to catch up with him, Sebastian grabs Kurt's arm and sighs.

"I need you to come with me,  _please_ ," Sebastian says through his teeth.

"What for?" Kurt asks, trying to ignore the fact that people are starting to stare. "You really need to plan these things ahead, Sebastian. You can't just-"

"My mother is town, and she'd like to meet you," says Sebastian. He tugs on Kurt's arm, trying to pull him towards the car, but Kurt resists.

"That's nice," says Kurt. "Call me later, and we can set something up."

Sebastian lets out a growl of frustration and releases Kurt's arm. "My mother needs to approve of you before we can get engaged, and she does not like to be kept waiting, so get in the goddamn car."

"Fine, jeez," says Kurt, following Sebastian back to the car. "I thought your parents already thought I was the best you could do?"

"My father is the one that thinks that," says Sebastian as he opens the car door for Kurt. "My mother needs to meet you first."

Kurt slides into the car, giving the driver a polite nod. "So, still haven't gotten your car fixed, or giving up on driving yourself around altogether?"

"This is my mother's car," says Sebastian, slamming the door closed. "She doesn't drive or take taxis. Jim here takes her everywhere. Jim, Kurt. Kurt, Jim." Sebastian gestures to the driver, who smiles at Kurt in the rearview mirror.

Jim is an older gentleman with a greying beard and a black chauffeur's cap. Kurt waves, and then turns back to Sebastian. "Your mother sounds, uh, interesting."

"Oh, she's absolutely fascinating," Sebastian says. "Jim, step on it."

"You got it, Mr Smythe." Jim says. He slams on the gas, shooting back into traffic and prompting Kurt to put on his seatbelt.

"Listen, I'm very sorry this is so sudden, okay?" Sebastian says slowly, as if he's forcing himself to be civil. "I didn't even know she was in town until like, an hour ago."

"Wow, you meant it when you said your family never talks, didn't you?" says Kurt, clicking his belt into place.

"Yeah," says Sebastian. He sighs. "Look, if this goes well, I'll suck you off. How does that sound?"

Kurt arches an eyebrow. "I don't know what gave you the impression that I'm easily persuaded by diamonds and sex, but I'm not. Besides, I doubt you have to worry. People's mothers always love me."

"They'd better," Sebastian says, turning to look out the window. "And for your information,  _everyone_  is persuaded by diamonds and sex."

"Hopefully not at the same time," says Kurt.

Sebastian turns back to face him and smiles. "So, when do I get to meet  _your_  mother?"

"You don't," Kurt says. "She died when I was eight. But you might meet Carole, my stepmom. She'll probably think you're awful."

"What do you mean, I 'might' meet her?" Sebastian asks.

"Uh, because  _this_ ," says Kurt, pointing back and forth between the two of them. "Is still something I'm just thinking about."

"Right, sure," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes.

"Don't give me that," says Kurt. His phone beeps and he pulls it out. "Some of us like to take our time to review our options."

Kurt looks over his phone to see that he has a new email. He squints at the subject, not sure what it means.  _Welcome to MakeMeAMatch!_ it reads, and Kurt frowns. He's heard of the site, but he never signed up. Figuring it's a mistake, Kurt tucks his phone back into his pocket. The car swerves to the left and Kurt jerks forward when it comes to a halt at a tall, expensive hotel.

"This is us," says Sebastian. "Thank you, Jim."

"You got it, Mr. Smythe." Jim says, tipping his hat.

It's weird to hear someone who's old enough to be Sebastian's father call him  _mister_ , but Kurt realizes that it's probably just policy. Should he ever get a driver himself, Kurt decides that he'll ask to be called by his first name. Sebastian opens the door and scoots after him, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

Sebastian closes the door behind him and adjusts his tie, bouncing on his heels. Kurt watches him for a moment and laughs.

"You're actually really nervous, aren't you?" he asks.

Sebastian just runs his tongue across his teeth and walks up to the revolving door. "My mother can be difficult."

"Well, she can't be any worse than you," Kurt says, pushing his way through the door and into the hotel lobby.

It's bright and cold inside, lights reflecting against the marble tile. Kurt shivers and rubs his hands together as he follows Sebastian through the lobby towards the lounge. He knows its summer and that it's hell outside, but there's no reason for every building in New York to make it Antarctica inside. They navigate through the tables and chairs until Sebastian stops in his tracks, causing Kurt to bump into him.

Kurt looks around for any women who might be Sebastian's mother, dismissing the one in front of them as too young. However, she stands up from her seat, pulls off her sunglasses and holds out her hand.

She's a tall, elegant woman in a tight, red dress, with suntanned skin and honey blonde hair. Smiling at them, wrinkles gather around her eyes and Kurt realizes that she simply looks very good for her age. Sebastian takes her hand and kisses it, making Kurt smile. It's a much more formal gesture than he's used to seeing Sebastian do. Kurt actually thinks it's kind of cute.

"Hello, Mother," Sebastian says. "This is Kurt."

Sebastian's mother turns to Kurt and smiles again, but something about it gives him goose bumps. She stares at him intently before Kurt's mind catches up to the moment and he takes her hand to shake it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Smythe." Kurt says.

"Please," she says. "Call me Colette."

She holds Kurt's gaze as they sit down, and Kurt starts to hear his heart pound in his ears. Sebastian adjusts his tie again, making Kurt wonder just how many guys he's brought to his mother, and how many she ate alive. Colette picks up her gin and tonic and takes a sip, never taking her eyes off Kurt.

"Tell me, Kurt." Colette says. "What is it that you do for a living?"

There's a slight accent in her 'that' and 'for.' Kurt remembers that Sebastian said she spends most of her time in Paris, and something in him panics. Should he respond in French to try and impress her? Should he worry about impressing her anyway? Sebastian did say that he was his last option, but does Colette have the power to veto that?

"Kurt?" says Sebastian, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, uh, yes," Kurt says. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. "I work for Amelia Fey designs. It's a fashion la-"

"I am aware," Colette says. Her gaze finally flickers away as she takes another sip of her drink. "And what is it that you actually  _want_  to do?"

Kurt frowns, taken aback at the implication that he isn't doing what he wants. "Well, I'm perfectly happy at Amelia Fey, but I would like to eventually start my own label."

"Hmm, yes.  _Eventually_ ," Colette says as she puts down her drink. She crosses her legs and turns to Sebastian. "Your father said you had an interview today. I hope that went well?"

"I think it did," says Sebastian, examining his nails. "I said I was in the process of negotiating my engagement, which seemed to satisfy them."

A waitress comes up to them, holding up her notebook to take their order and smiling. "Hi," she says. "Can I get you anythi-"

"Sebastian will have a glass of merlot, and Kurt will have." Colette looks Kurt up and down before turning back to the waitress. "A diet soda."

The waitress looks warily at Kurt, who only smiles and nods. He doesn't like this woman ordering for him, but he has the distinct impression that she is not someone with which to argue. At least not directly. Instead, he sits back in his chair and clears his throat.

"Sebastian tells me you live in Paris," he says. "I hear it's beautiful this time of year."

Colette nods. "Unlike New York, Paris is beautiful every time of year."

"Unlike New York?" Kurt asks.

"New York is only acceptable in the spring and the winter," says Colette. "Otherwise, it is intolerable."

"And yet, you're here," Sebastian says. "Wonder of wonders."

"Well, I couldn't let Samuel marry  _mon petit chat_  off without putting up a fight," Colette says _,_ smiling as she takes another sip of her drink.

Kurt turns to Sebastian and laughs. "Are you your mother's little cat?"

"Don't," Sebastian says. "Just don't."

"When Sebastian was seven," says Colette. "I would not buy him a kitten, knowing that half of his time would be spent in America and I would have to take care of it in his stead, so Sebastian decided to become one."

Sebastian groans and rubs his hand over his eyes. "Oh my god."

Colette grins and holds up her hand like a claw. "He would run around the villa like,  _mmmrow_!"

Laughing, Colette scratches the air while Sebastian buries his face in his hands. Kurt smiles, leaning forward and resting his chin his palm. If there's one thing he knows mothers like to talk about, it's their children's antics. The waitress returns, balancing their drinks on a tray.

"Sounds adorable," he says, taking his soda. "I hope there are pictures."

"Oh, yes," Colette says with a wave of her hand. "Jim even took video."

Sebastian sighs. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Do not kill my driver, Sebastian," Colette says. "Or I will make you replace him."

"Hilarious," says Sebastian. He sits up straight and turns to Kurt. "Mother, Kurt's father is a congressman."

Colette's smile falls, and she gives Kurt an icy stare. "Democrat, or republican?"

"Independent," Kurt says.

This seems to satisfy her, and she nods. "America's two-party system is defective."

"Either way, he's a powerful man," says Sebastian. "I think you'll like him."

Kurt arches an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Sure, his dad's in congress, but it's not like he's some hugely influential politician. He's a mechanic first, after all.

"Perhaps," Colette says. She turns back to Kurt. "Tell me, does your father approve of you making clothes, or would he prefer you go into politics, like him?"

"My father's very supportive," says Kurt. "He's always encouraged me to follow my dreams."

Sebastian covers his mouth and looks away, as if to physically prevent himself from making a snarky comment, but Colette only smiles.

"And what will your dream label make?" she asks.

"I'm actually interested in making clothes that will suit both men and women," says Kurt. "I've always thought that fashion has no gender, and I'd like to create a line that reflects that."

"Sebastian," says Colette, holding out her empty glass. "Take this to the bar get me another."

He frowns and glances at Kurt. "Just wait two minutes and the girl will-"

She shoots him a look and Sebastian takes the glass without another word. He leaves for the bar, and Colette turns back to Kurt.

"Where did you go to school?" she asks.

"Pratt," says Kurt. He's about to say more when she launches into another question.

"Siblings?"

"Um, a stepbrother," Kurt says. "Finn."

"History of disease or mental disorders in your family?" Colette asks, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her knee.

"Uh, my father had a heart attack about eight years ago," says Kurt. "But other than that nothing."

"Children?"

Kurt blinks. "What?"

"Do you want children?" says Colette slowly. Her tone reminds him so much of Sebastian that it almost throws him off.

"With the right person," says Kurt.

"Do you drink?" she asks, glancing back to the bar.

"If the occasion is right," says Kurt.

"Are you trying to marry my son for his money?"

"I- uh, no?" Kurt swallows and sits back, not sure how to respond.

"I would not recommend it," Colette says. "I do not mean to imply that you are a gold digger, only that it will not make you happy."

"Well, good thing that's not what I'm doing," Kurt says.

"And just what are you doing, Kurt?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

"I, um." Kurt swallows again, looking up to find Sebastian on his way over.

"Your gin and tonic, Mother," Sebastian says as he returns, handing the glass to Colette.

She takes it and smiles. "Thank you. I think that will be all, don't you?"

"Wait, what?" Sebastian says, gawking at his mother as she grabs her purse and stands up.

"I would like to sleep off my jet lag, if you don't mind," She says. Colette holds a hand out to Kurt, who shakes it. "It was very nice talking to you, Kurt."

"Likewise," Kurt says.

Sebastian looks at her expectantly, tucking his hands into his pockets. She purses her lips and stares back for a moment before finally closing her eyes and giving him a quick nod. Grinning, Sebastian pulls her close and kisses her on the cheek. Colette smiles and gives them both a wave as she walks toward the elevators.

"That was, uh, weird," Kurt says as he stands up.

"That was fucking perfect," says Sebastian, grabbing Kurt's hand and dragging him back through the lounge to the lobby.

"Perfect?" Kurt asks. "I thought she was gonna bite my head off half the time."

"Nope, she liked you," Sebastian says as the reach the doorway. "She actually fucking liked you."

Outside, Jim leans against the car, waiting for them. He opens the car door and Sebastian pushes Kurt in, crowding up against him and putting an arm around his waist.

"I'm guessing that doesn't happen often?" Kurt asks, smiling.

Sebastian nods, and something in Kurt's chest flutters when he realizes how close they are. "She made a guy cry once," he says. "She sent me off to get her another drink, and when I came back, he was crying. I don't even know what she said."

"Well, I-" The words stop in Kurt's throat when Sebastian leans in and nips at his neck. He traces kisses all the way up to Kurt's jaw and takes another bite at his ear. "Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

"I told you," whispers Sebastian as his hand creeps up Kurt's thigh. "That if this went well, you would be rewarded."

"Oh my god," says Kurt, rolling his eyes. "Like, yeesh, Jim is right there."

Reaching up, Sebastian presses a button on the ceiling. A panel comes up, creating a barrier between them and the driver, and providing some privacy. Sebastian brings his hand back to Kurt's leg and leans in to plant more kisses on his neck. Kurt's heart rate speeds up when Sebastian's fingers brush over the front of his pants, and he closes his eyes and swallows.

"I don't remember taking you up on that offer," says Kurt, hating himself as he tilts his head back to give Sebastian better access.

Sebastian lets Kurt have one long swipe of his tongue before coming up to whisper in his ear again. "I don't see you rejecting it."

It has been way too long since Kurt got any action, and he's certainly grateful for the attention, but in the back of Kurt's mind, he knows he doesn't want this. Not right here, not right now. The last, in fact, the  _only_  person to touch him like this was Blaine, and Kurt just isn't ready for someone else.

"Jim?" Kurt says, hoping the driver can hear him through the barrier. "Can you take me to the closest Q station? I'd like to go home, please."

"Sure thing, Mr. Hummel," Jim says, and the car surges into traffic.

"Home?" says Sebastian, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Aw, c'mon. You don't need to go anywhere. How about I take you back to my apartment and we can celebrate properly?"

Kurt looks at him and smiles. "Can't, sorry."

"Mmh." Sebastian sighs and traces his fingers up and down Kurt's leg, leaving tingles with every touch. "Have you talked to your father about our arrangement yet?"

"Arrangement?" Kurt asks. He puts a hand over Sebastian's to make him stop.

"The extended engagement idea," Sebastian says.

"Oh." Kurt swallows. "No, not yet. He's pretty busy. Besides, I'm still-"

"Thinking about it?" says Sebastian, pulling away. He drags his thumb across Kurt's palm as he takes his hand back. "Right, sure."

The car stops and Kurt looks out the window to see a sign for a station with his train. Part of him feels like apologizing, and he suspects that it's the same part that just wants to continue fooling around in the back of the car, but another part knows that he has nothing to be sorry for. He's made Sebastian no promises, and it's not his fault if Sebastian's impatient. Kurt pulls on the car door handle to get out, but Sebastian grabs his sleeve.

"What? No goodbye kiss?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt laughs. "I don't think goodbye kisses are a thing we do, Sebastian."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they are," Sebastian says with a grin.

"You know, for a guy who claims he's gonna ignore me once we get married, you're actually kinda clingy," says Kurt.

"I never said I'd ignore you," says Sebastian, tilting his head to the side. "I just said I didn't care what you did."

"Then I'm gonna go, and you're not gonna care about it," Kurt says as he opens the door.

"Sure," Sebastian says, letting him go. "Tell me when you talk to your father."

Kurt nods. "I will."

Sebastian smiles at him, and warmth pools in Kurt's chest. He gives in, swooping back down to give Sebastian a peck on the cheek, then steps out of the car towards the station. Kurt watches Jim speed away, and leans against a lamppost to gather his thoughts.

So he doesn't hate Sebastian. That's fine; especially if they're really gonna go through with their marriage. However, it's the part of Kurt that wants to give him kisses on the cheek, that likes it a little too much when he smiles, that wants to wear his dragonfly pin to work just to see Harmony's face that worries him. That is the part he needs to get under control.

* * *

When he finally gets home, Kurt sits at his desk and opens up his laptop to see exactly why some matchmaker site he's never signed up for sent him an email. He brings the email up and immediately cringes at the horrible design. Yellow text over a deep purple background screams at him that he's just one click away from finding true love. Kurt leans back in his chair as he reads it, his face contorting with every word.

_Welcome to ! Your loving parents have signed you up for the NUMBER ONE matchmaking site in the world!_

"My parents?" Kurt says aloud. "Oh, Jesus, Dad. Tell me you didn't."

He clicks on the link to his profile to find a picture of himself at Blaine's wedding smiling back at him. His nose is red and his eyes shiny, and he can Blaine's cropped-out shoulder in the corner. Next to the picture is his name and information, along with pulsating hearts surrounding pictures of other guys, complete with captions like 'Is he the one?' and 'can this be Mr Right?'

Kurt covers his mouth with his hand. "This isn't happening."

His phone rings, and Kurt can bring himself to look away from his computer screen to see who it is. He just robotically brings the phone up to his ear.

"Yes?" he says, still staring at the screen.

"Hey, kiddo!" says his father. "I've got great news."

"You signed me up with this matchmaking site," Kurt says. The hearts change, and new faces appear in the sidebar. Kurt wants to contact them just so they can all share in their pain.

He can hear Burt laugh. "Yeah, you got the email? Isn't it great? Carole says all of her friends got matches for their kids this way."

"How modern of them," says Kurt. "Have you, uh, found anything for me on this thing?"

"Yeah, actually," Burt says. "There's like, a separate thing for parents. Two minutes after I put up your picture, this lady sends me a message saying that her son lives in New York and he'd like to meet you."

"Oh, uh, great," Kurt says. He takes a deep breath and sighs. "Listen, Dad, I-"

"Is tomorrow too soon?" Burt asks. "Do you have plans or are you free? Do you want to look at this kid's profile first?"

"I don't- Dad, why did you use this picture of me at Blaine's wedding?" asks Kurt, leaning forward to get a better look at it. "I look like I'm gonna cry, probably because I was."

"The site said to use your most recent photo, and that's what we got," Burt says. "And I don't think it looks that bad, especially considering all the messages I'm getting for you."

Kurt swallows. "Are, are you getting a lot?"

"Yeah, loads." Burt laughs again, and it starts to sink in just how enthusiastic he is about this site. "This one kid's into theater and his parents actually live in Lima. Sounds pretty good to me."

"That, uh, sounds nice," Kurt says. He scratches the back of his head, trying to figure out just what to say. Even though he knows he should talk to his father about Sebastian, Kurt just can't seem to find the words. "Did you have to pay for this?"

"It's about twenty bucks a month," says Burt. "But you get a discount for multiple accounts, so Carole and I made one for Finn, too."

"That should go over well with Rachel," says Kurt, glancing at his doorway, knowing that she's just on the other side.

"Those kids are on again, off again so much that I doubt they'll even notice," Burt says. "Besides, if we can find a girl for Finn on this thing, too, then it's worth it. You don't know how worried I was, Kurt. After you and Sebastian couldn't work it out, I didn't know what I was gonna do with you. Now it should be easy."

Kurt cringes again and feels his heart start to wither into a raisin. "About that, um-"

He stops, suddenly remembering something Colette said.  _And just what are you doing, Kurt?_  Is it really fair for Kurt to just shut down anything this site can give him just because Sebastian won't leave him alone? It's not like they've actually agreed on anything yet. They've just talked about the possibility of maybe doing something eventually. Besides, the service is already paid for.

"I mean, uh, what did you say this guy's name was?" Kurt asks. Maybe he'll be just as embarrassed about the site as Kurt, and they can laugh about it their meeting.

"I think it's like Charlie or Chad or something," Burt says. "His mom wants you to meet him for lunch tomorrow. Can you make it?"

Sinking into his chair, Kurt gives in. "Yeah, I don't have any plans."

"Ok, I'll let her know. This lady's kinda pushy, though. I hope her son isn't as bad."

"I'm sure that there are worse things a mother in law can be," says Kurt. Like terrifying and totally calling you a gold digger while saying that that's not what she's doing in the same breath.

"Don't I know it," says Burt. "Not to say anything about your Nana, but still."

"Yeah, so I'll call you later to tell you how it goes, I guess," Kurt says.

"Sure. Break a leg, kiddo."

Kurt hangs up and finally exits out of the awful site. He closes his eyes and tries to push his guilt away. He's never promised Sebastian anything and there's nothing wrong with him having other meetings, even if they were set up on the tackiest site in the world. Sighing, he sits up and closes his laptop. Above him, Sebastian's Tiffany box sticks out from its place on the shelf. Kurt grumbles and throws a scarf over it. He owes Sebastian nothing.

* * *

If there's one thing Kurt is tired of, it's having meals with people in cold restaurants. At least this time, there won't be any parents involved, so that might make things slightly less awkward. Kurt sits at a small table in the front, browsing the internet with his phone. He scrolls through the gossip news headlines, taking pause at  _Our Funny Girl Casting Predictions_ and  _Quinn Fabray_ _'_ _s Secret Baby._

Kurt rolls his eyes at this and pulls up his email instead. Blaine had sent him a video of one of his and Santana's gigs, and Kurt's been putting off watching it. He's happy that they're getting work and wishes them the best, but he can't help but feel a bit jealous. He can't remember the last time he and Blaine sang together, and he isn't exactly inclined to watch him sing with someone else. However, it's only a matter of time before Blaine asks for his opinion. Kurt might as well get it over with while he waits.

Turning his phone over on its side, Kurt plugs in his headphones and puts them on. Someone, probably Cooper, struggles to hold the camera steady in a crowded cafe. Blaine sits at a piano, while Santana stands next to him at the mic. She wears the little red dress Kurt designed for her bachelorette party, and her sequins sparkle in the spotlight. It's a little too glam for the soft song she sings, but her soulful voice makes up for it.

Blaine joins in for the chorus, harmonizing perfectly. The camera zooms in on his face as he looks up at crowd and smiles. The lyrics describe powerful declarations of love, and Blaine looks like he means it. Kurt takes this moment to close his eyes and pretend that Blaine is singing just for him.

A tap on his shoulder brings Kurt back to reality. He looks up to find a skinny blonde guy about his age waving at him, and Kurt pulls off his headphones to greet him.

"Hi," he says. "Are you-?"

"Chandler," the guy says. He smiles and bounces on his feet. "Wow, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Excuse me?" Kurt asks, smiling back.

Chandler pulls out the chair across from and sits down. He seems to shake with nervous energy, which makes Kurt kind of want to run away.

"We kinda knew each other back in Lima," says Chandler. "It's totally ok if you don't remember me. I mean, we only texted for like, a week."

"Texted?" Kurt says as he rakes his mind for any memory of seeing this guy before.

Chandler nods vigorously, the force of which seems to make him vibrate. "Yeah, but then your boyfriend got upset about it, so we stopped."

"Oh.  _Oh,_ okay," Kurt licks his lips and swallows. That weird week in his senior year comes rushing back to him, and he hopes that Chandler's pick-up lines have improved.

"Although I guess that things ended up not really working out with him, huh?" Chandler says. He folds his hands on the table, looking down at them and biting his lip. It occurs to Kurt that while he might have needed some prompting to remember, Chandler obviously never forgot their textual encounters.

"Uh, actually, that's the thing," Kurt says, sitting up a little in his seat. "Blaine and I are still, um, involved."

Chandler looks up and his eyes widen. "Oh."

"What I'm looking for is a husband who will understand that Blaine and I will always be involved, you know?" Kurt figures that it's best to just get this issue out of the way. He doesn't want to get this guy's hopes up if nothing can happen. "That doesn't necessarily mean that my marriage will be second to my relationship with..."

Kurt trails off, suddenly distracted by the sight of someone coming up behind Chandler. Sebastian Smythe balls his hands into fists and stares Kurt down as he approaches them from the bar. He stops when he reaches their table, barely giving Chandler a glance.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sebastian asks. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Oh my god," says Kurt. "Are you crazy? What are you doing here?"

Chandler looks up at Sebastian and frowns. "Wait, is this Blaine?"

"What? No," says Sebastian, sneering at Chandler before turning back to Kurt. "I thought we had an agreement."

"We agreed to think about it!" Kurt says. He throws up his hands and lets out a groan of frustration. "Jesus, Sebastian, are you stalking me? You can't just show up and-"

"For your information, I'm having lunch with my mother," Sebastian says. "Despite the fact that you have somehow become an important figure in my life, you are not the center of my universe. You told me you were going to talk to your dad about our engagement, Kurt."

"Engagement?" says Chandler. "Wait, you're already engaged to someone else?"

"No, no, I'm not," Kurt says. "I'm so sorry, Chandler. I had no idea he was gonna-"

"Really?" says Sebastian, raising his eyebrows. "Because we seemed pretty engaged in the car the other day."

"We didn't do anything!" Kurt snaps. "It was all you! And I will talk to my dad eventually, I just wanted to, um..."

Colette glides past them, putting a hand on her son's shoulder. "You are a rough sea, Sebastian. You cannot blame the boy for testing other waters."

"That's really your mother?" Chandler asks, watching as Colette continues past them, apparently unfazed by the whole thing. "She looks, like, thirty."

"I am this close to getting hired at one of the top law firms in the city," Sebastian holds up two fingers with an inch of space between them. "And it's all riding on the fact that I'm supposed to be engaged soon. Don't ruin my life just because you're an indecisive little shit."

"Don't fucking put your whole life in my hands!" Kurt says. "I barely even know you!"

"So, uh, I'm gonna go," Chandler says, pushing out his seat.

"Wait," says Kurt. "Don't. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Look, I need a guy who's just gonna be my husband." Chandler says as he stands. "Not my husband, and someone else's boyfriend, and then have a weird third thing going on with some other guy."

"Wait! There's no third thing!" Kurt says, struggling to find the words, but it's too late. Chandler's already on his way out the door. He turns to Sebastian, furious. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?" Sebastian asks. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "What's wrong with  _you_? What the fuck do need to make a commitment, Kurt? What do you want from me?"

Kurt opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Sebastian brings his hand back down and sighs. "You want your own label? I'll give you the money to start your own goddamn label."

"Stop trying to bribe me into marrying you!" Kurt says through his teeth. "Is there honestly nothing about you like, as a person that you can bring to a relationship? Or are you just walking bank?"

Sebastian doesn't respond. He just stares at Kurt and seethes until the restaurant manager comes up to them.

"Is there a problem?" the manager asks, looking back and forth between the two. "Because you are disturbing the other patrons."

"There's no problem," Sebastian says. "In fact, I think Mr. Hummel here was just leaving."

"I was, actually," says Kurt, standing up. "It was so nice to see you again, Sebastian. Let your mother know I said hi."

Kurt brushes past Sebastian and the manager, and leaves the restaurant. His nerves are wound so tight that Kurt feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Everything in his sight, from the people on the sidewalk to the cars in the street, just seems to make him angrier. He knew this meeting could go bad, but he never thought it would end up like this.

* * *

The entire subway ride home, all Kurt can think about is how much he wishes Blaine were here, singing that song to him and letting him know that everything's gonna be ok.

Dropping his bag on the floor, Kurt collapses onto his sofa and buries his face in a pillow. He takes a deep breath and screams, pouring all of his anger and frustration into the pillow and hoping it will be enough. Rachel carefully sits down at his side and rubs his back with her hand in gentle circles.

"I guess it didn't go well?" she says.

Kurt pries his face off the pillow to look at her. "No, it did not."

"Well, that site's pretty creepy," says Rachel. "My dads have an account for me, too, but they say all the offers they get are from like, dirty old men."

"It wasn't the guy," Kurt says. "I mean, that wasn't gonna work out anyway, but Sebastian made it a million times worse."

"Uh, speaking of making things a million times worse," says Rachel, biting her lip. "I think I may have ruined multiple people's lives by accident."

Kurt squints at her. "What?"

"I didn't mean to!" Rachel says. "I had the best intentions, but that stupid magazine used my words for evil!"

"What're you-" Kurt's phone rings. He groans and sits up. "Never mind."

He pulls his phone out of his bag to see that it's his father. Kurt sighs and holds the phone up to his ear.

"Do you want to explain why this kid's mother just screamed at me for ten minutes?" Burt asks.

"Uh, what kid, exactly?" Kurt asks. He glances at Rachel, who arches an eyebrow.

"You know what kid, Kurt," Burt says. "What the hell happened at your meeting today? Why does Sebastian Smythe think you're engaged to him?"

Kurt winces. "He doesn't think that. I mean, he kinda does, but-"

"Kurt, you gotta talk to me about these things," says Burt with a sigh. "You can't make, I don't know,  _arrangements_  without telling me. You gotta keep me in the loop!"

"I'm trying," says Kurt. He lies back down on the sofa while Rachel gets up to grab something from the kitchen. "I was gonna tell you when I had made up my mind."

"It looked to me like you already made up your mind about Sebastian," Burt says. "I thought you hated that guy."

"I don't," Kurt says. "Well, I do right now, but not like, in general? I don't know. After the meeting we had with him and his dad, Sebastian sent me flowers and a diamond dragonfly pin-"

"And it's gorgeous!" Rachel says from the kitchen.

"And he said that if I married him, I could still see Blaine and that we wouldn't have to deal with each other unless we absolutely had to." Kurt closes his eyes and buries his face in the pillow again. "And I thought that maybe, if we did get engaged, it would be extended? Maybe?"

"What do you mean by extended?" Burt asks.

Kurt turns on his side, trying to get comfortable. "I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought that if we had an engagement of like, a year, then I could pretend to decide while giving myself more time to decide for real."

 _Indecisive little shit._ Sebastian's words ring in his ears.

On the other side of the line, Burt grumbles. "Kurt, you know that's not fair. An engagement is a promise. You can't make promises specifically so you might not have to keep them."

"Yeah, I know," Kurt says. "Dad, I don't know what to do. I feel like marrying Sebastian is just the easy way out. I don't want to marry someone because it's easy."

"Marrying somebody is never easy," says Burt. "But it's something you gotta do. I know you want romance and love, and there's nothing wrong with that, but you're just making things harder on yourself. Do you think you could be happy with Sebastian?"

"I don't know." Kurt swallows and stares up at the ceiling. "Maybe. I think I want to talk to Blaine about it first."

"You do what you gotta do, Kurt," Burt says. "But you have to let me know what your plans are."

"I will," says Kurt. "In the mean time, maybe you can set something else up for me? From the site?"

"Uh, I think I might have to delete your account."

Kurt frowns. "What? Why?"

"Apparently you can leave reviews on this thing," says Burt. "And Chandler's mom left a pretty nasty one."

"Are you serious?" Kurt asks. "You can't review  _people_! That's not fair!"

"Yeah, this site isn't nearly as good as I thought it was gonna be," Burt says. "I'll figure something out, but I think I should wait until you've figured things out fist."

"Alright," says Kurt. "Thanks."

"I'll talk to you later, ok kiddo?"

"Yeah, bye Dad." Kurt says. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

They hang up, and Kurt curls up into a ball on the couch. His fiery anger has dissolved into a dull ache in his chest, and Kurt just wants to take a nap. He feels the cushions dip as Rachel sits next to him again.

"So, are you gonna marry Sebastian?" she asks.

"I don't know," Kurt says. "I don't know what I'm gonna do about anything."

"Are you gonna call Blaine?"

Kurt shrugs. "Eventually."

"When you get married, are you gonna have a bouquet?" Rachel asks.

"What? No, probably not," Kurt says. "Why?"

"I refuse to go through life without catching the bouquet at a wedding," says Rachel.

"Well, don't count on catching one from me," Kurt says. "At this rate, I'm never getting married."

Rachel sighs and squeezes his arm. "Don't say that."

"It's true," Kurt grumbles into his pillow.

"Hey, I know what will make you feel better," says Rachel. "Do you wanna get some cheese cake?"

"Oh dear god, please, yes."

* * *

As much as he knows he should talk to Blaine right away, Kurt avoids him instead. He doesn't call, doesn't answer his texts or email, and never signs into Skype. Kurt can't quite put his finger on what it is about this talk that he so desperately wants to escape, but for the first few days he tells himself he just wants to figure out what to say. He does need the time to fully articulate his feelings, whether they're about Sebastian, or Chandler, or the video Blaine sent him, but the longer Kurt goes without contact with Blaine, the larger the lump of guilt in his chest grows.

It occurs to him on his third day avoiding Blaine that Chandler brought up some awkward and painful memories. In his senior year of high school, separation from Blaine had been imminent, and they both avoided the issue until it blew up in their faces. Now, Blaine's on the other side of the country, and things continue to fall apart in Kurt's hands. Part of him knows that things tend to get better when he and Blaine just talk about it, but Kurt's still afraid for the worst.

The look on Blaine's face when he found out Kurt had been texting Chandler is still seared in Kurt's mind. How will he react if he finds out that Kurt and Sebastian kissed? Kurt knows that they're not officially 'together' like they were in high school, but the feelings are still there, and he's sure it'll hurt. He doesn't want Blaine to feel anything like he did when Blaine and Santana got married, but as time goes by, it seems inevitable.

It takes Blaine outright calling Kurt that makes him break. Kurt sits at his desk in his room, sketching, when his phone rings and he sees Blaine's picture smiling up at him. Something in his gut twists at the sight of it, and Kurt forces himself to drop his pencil and pick up the phone. He takes a deep breath and answers.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey." Blaine's voice has a slight tremor to it, and Kurt's heart aches.

"How are you?" Kurt asks.

Blaine sighs. "Um, fine. I mean, um, yeah. I'm fine. I feel like we haven't talked in a while."

"No, we haven't," Kurt says as he gets up from his chair to move to the bed. "I've been kind of, um, busy."

"Oh, okay," Blaine says. "Did you get my email? With the video?"

"Yes. You guys were great," Kurt says. "And Santana's dress was gorgeous."

"Wasn't it?" says Blaine, laughing. "It's by my favorite designer."

"Mine too." Kurt lies back onto his pillows and closes his eyes. "I was a little jealous."

"Jealous of what?" Blaine asks.

"We never get to sing together anymore," Kurt says. He turns onto his side and lets go of the phone, letting it rest on his cheek. "I miss that."

"I miss it too," says Blaine. "I promise I'll sing with you if I come up for your birthday."

"If?" Kurt asks. "Why  _if_? I thought you definitely coming."

"Oh, I, um." He can hear Blaine swallow. "We just, we hadn't talked in so long, and I wasn't sure if you still wanted me to."

"Blaine, of course I still want you to," Kurt says. "We're not growing apart, remember? We promised."

"I know, but if want to keep this up, we have to actually  _talk_ , Kurt."

"I was-"

"Busy, I know."

Takes another deep breath and sighs. "I, um, wasn't really that busy."

"Then what's going on?" Blaine asks. "Please talk to me. I need you to talk to me."

"I kind of, maybe, accidentally led Sebastian to believe that we were on our way to being engaged," Kurt says. He curls in on himself, as if to brace himself from further agony. "And then I had a meeting with another guy, and Sebastian got upset and then I was kinda mean to him and Chandler's mother gave me a bad review and no one on wants to marry me."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Blaine says. "Why does Sebastian think you're engaged?"

"We've been talking about his offer," says Kurt. "We kind of, um, kissed once."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," says Blaine. "I mean, I'm not happy about it, but-" he stops for a moment and sighs. "No matter how much it hurts, I don't have the right to tell you what you can and can't do with another guy, especially if your future's at stake."

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Kurt says, playing with the frayed edges of his pillowcase. "I've kind of ruined everything."

"Right, you had another meeting. Did you say it was with a guy named Chandler?"

"Yes," says Kurt. "And before you ask, yes, it's the same Chandler you're thinking of."

"Oh, wow. It's a small world," Blaine says.

"I beg you to sing any song but that one," says Kurt.

Blaine laughs. "So how did Sebastian find out about this?"

"He was like, at the same restaurant with his mom," Kurt says. "Total MILF, by the way. Is there a way to evoke the same sentiment as MILF without saying that you want to have sex with her? Because I don't."

"MPLF?" Blaine suggests. "Mom people'd like to fuck?"

"That could work," Kurt says. "Sebastian was a huge asshole about it, though. He just walked up to the table and started yelling at me. It was  _so_ embarrassing."

"I'm sorry," says Blaine.

Kurt snuggles into his pillow, pretending that it's Blaine. "And then I called him a walking bank and said that he didn't have anything to offer me as a person."

"That, that's kinda harsh," Blaine says. "Is he really that bad?"

"The worst part is that no, he's not." Kurt grabs his phone off his cheek and sits up, pulling his needs up to his chest. "He's fine when he's not trying to bribe me. I actually don't think that marrying him would be that bad, as long as he stops throwing money at every issue."

"Have you talked to him since?" asks Blaine.

"No." Kurt says. "I, I think I want to take him up on his offer, but I want us to stop being jerks to each other first."

"Well, then talk to him," Blaine says. "I know it's easy to just want to avoid a problem until it goes away, but it won't go away, Kurt. You have to face these things head-on."

"I know, I know," says Kurt. "I'll call and apologize, and hopefully he'll be sorry as well. Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

Kurt rests his head against the wall and stares up at his ceiling fan, watching it spin. "If I get married and, for whatever reason, I can't separate for a while, I still love you."

"I love you, too," Blaine says. "I'm always going to love you, whether we're married or not."

There's a knock on Kurt's door. He sits up. "Yeah?"

"Uh, Kurt?" Rachel asks from the other side. "Sebastian's in the lobby and he wants to come up. Should I buzz him in?"

Kurt's mouth falls open. "Oh my god, he's here."

"Kurt?" says Blaine. "I think you should go for it."

"What, right now?" Kurt asks, pressing himself closer to the wall, as if to get as far away from the situation as possible.

"No time like the present," Blaine says. "Break a leg."

"I hate you," Kurt says. "I love you, but I hate you."

"So should I tell him you're busy or what?" Rachel asks.

"Um, no. Let him up. Just give me a minute," Kurt says. "And Blaine?"

"Yeah?" he says.

"Thank you."

Blaine laughs. "You, too."

With that, Kurt hangs up and tosses his phone onto a pillow as he leaps out of bed. He examines himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair to smooth it out. Nervous tension soars through his body, making his limbs shake and heart pound. Taking a deep breath, he throws on a soft knit cardigan and opens the door.

Sebastian stands with his back to him, talking to Rachel on the couch, and looking at the TV. A re-run of Quinn's show,  _The Innerground,_  is on, and Rachel never misses it, even if she's seen the episode a hundred time. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Sebastian tilts his head to the side and grumble.

"This is so fucking stupid," he says. "How can Wilson not believe that Helena's from the future? How else would she know about the palm trees?"

"Wait," says Kurt as he steps out into the living room. "Quinn's character is from the future?"

Turning at the sound of Kurt's voice, Sebastian glances at him and nods. "Obviously."

"It's up for debate," says Rachel. "I personally believe she's an inter-dimensional being."

Sebastian scoffs "Bullshit. We already established that those don't exist."

"I thought this was supposed to be a crime show," Kurt says, squinting at the TV.

"It is," Rachel and Sebastian say in unison.

"Sebastian, would you like to come talk in my room?" ask Kurt. He points to the door and jerks his head a bit, indicating that this is very much what he'd prefer to do.

"Yeah, ok." Sebastian says. He takes one last look at the TV and shakes his head. "If Helena and Wilson don't hook up in the next episode, I'm gonna stop watching."

Rachel frowns. "Uh, I'm pretty sure they're related."

"And I'm pretty sure they don't care," says Sebastian. "Alright, let's talk."

He follows Kurt into his bedroom and closes the door behind them. Glancing around the room, Sebastian arches an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Kurt resists the urge to snap at him from just the expression on his stupid face and sits down on the bed. He pats the spot next to him to tell Sebastian to sit down as well. Understanding, Sebastian takes a seat next to him.

"I want to apologize for the other day," Kurt says. He folds his hands in his lap and stares down at them. "I should have told you my father set up another meeting."

"And I shouldn't have yelled at you in the middle of it," says Sebastian. "I'm sorry."

Kurt sighs. "And I shouldn't have called you a walking bank, or said that you had gigantic dinosaur teeth."

"You didn't say I had dinosaur teeth," Sebastian says, cracking a smile.

"I might've said that behind your back," says Kurt.

"Well, that's fine," Sebastian says. "I'm very confident in my teeth, so I don't really care what you have to say about them."

"Good for you," Kurt says.

Sebastian scoots a few inches closer to him. "I really am sorry, though. I'm just, I'm under a lot of pressure and a lot if it is riding on you making a decision soon, which isn't fair if you're not ready. I guess."

"You guess?" asks Kurt.

"I mean, I don't know," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes. "I thought that you wanted to get this over with as much as I did."

"I do," Kurt says. "But I, well, all my life I've had this idea of what my marriage would be like, and I'm just having trouble adjusting to reality."

"This is about what's-his-face, Blaine, right?" Sebastian asks. Kurt nods. "Listen, I have no intention of getting between you two. Hell, we can hire him or something. You guys can be like my mom and Jim."

Kurt laughs. "Wait, your mom and her driver?"

"Yeah. There was a while in my early teens when I thought Jim was my real dad," Sebastian says.

"Judging by the fact that you and your dad have the same nose and um, prominent teeth, I'm guessing that delusion was brief."

Sebastian nods. "Very."

"Well, I appreciate the offer," says Kurt. "But unless you want Blaine to be our personal bar singer, that's probably not gonna work."

"So, is there like, a specific timeline we can work out?" Sebastian asks. "Where you can, I don't know, find yourself and then make a decision? Because I need it."

"Alright," Kurt says.

"Good," says Sebastian. "So, maybe like, three weeks or-"

Kurt holds out a hand and stops him. "No, I mean, like, alright. I'm alright. I'll marry you."

On the other side of the door Rachel squeals, but Kurt can't do anything about it because at that moment Sebastian pulls him in for a kiss. Kurt smiles into it and relaxes, the pressure in his chest that's been building since Blaine's wedding suddenly lifted.

Breaking the kiss, Sebastian rests his forehead against Kurt's and grins. "Thank you," he says. "Oh my god, thank you."

"You're welcome," says Kurt. He laughs as Sebastian grabs his face and kisses each cheek.

"You have no idea how much of a relief this is," Sebastian says as he buries into Kurt's shoulder and squeezes

Kurt laughs again and tries to squirm out of his grip. "No, you're giving me a pretty good idea."

"I gotta go tell my parents," says Sebastian. He sits up and smiles, pointing his index finger at Kurt. "We? Are gonna be amazing."

"We'd better," Kurt says.

He gives Kurt one more peck on the corner of his mouth before standing up. His hand on the door, Sebastian turns back to face him. "I promise you won't regret this."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," says Kurt.

"I certainly hope so," Sebastian says. With that he leaves, opening up the door and breezing past Rachel, who squeals again.

She bounces into Kurt's room and leaps onto his bed to give him a hug. He hugs her back, beaming. Kurt Hummel is engaged and he's actually pretty happy about it.


	5. Chapter 5

With every tap of Colette’s fingers against the conference table, Kurt’s heart leaps further up his throat. It’s the first meeting between the Smythe and Hummel families to negotiate the marriage contract between their sons and Sebastian is late. Colette peers over her sunglasses at Kurt as if this is his fault. Kurt wants to say that she’s the one who raised the tardy fucker, but he doesn’t think it will do much to ease the tension.

His father laughs at something Samuel says so loudly that the speakers on Kurt’s laptop almost give out. Unable to leave DC, Burt joins them via webcam. As much as he appreciates the effort, Kurt wishes that Burt could be here physically. He feels completely alone on his side of the table.

The conference room where they sit reminds Kurt of a coffin, with its long, rectangular shape and low ceiling. He tugs at his collar and clears his throat, wondering if it would be rude to step out for some fresh air. The diamond dragonfly pin on his lapel is far heavier than it should be, and Kurt has the sudden urge to rip it off. He runs his thumb over the smooth platinum base and reminds himself that it’s just a piece of jewelry.

At that moment, the door clicks and Sebastian walks in, grinning and out of breath.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says. “I was busy being hired by Dumas O’Brian. I start Monday.”

Their parents congratulate him as he pulls out a chair and sits down next to Kurt. Sebastian flashes him a smile, which Kurt returns. Kurt really is happy for Sebastian, but at the same time he kind of wants to deck him. 

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Kurt says.

Samuel nods and pulls out a leather folder filled with papers. “Since this is our first meeting, I think it’s best that we just go over what each family wants from this relationship.”

“Sounds good to me,” says Burt.

Kurt swallows and nods, glancing over to Sebastian for reassurance. Sebastian seems preoccupied with his nails.

“Traditionally,” says Samuel, “a Smythe contract does not have a specific number of years before a couple can separate. The couple can separate at any time, so long as there is a severe enough breach of contract.”

“And what exactly counts as a severe enough breach of contract?” Burt asks. The screen goes dark for a second, and Kurt drags his fingers across the track pad to bring the computer back to life.

“Insufficient financial stability, physical or verbal abuse, or not being able to reproduce within a specific period of time,” Samuel says.

“Reproduce?” Kurt asks. “I mean, we’re both men, so--”

“Our contract would require one child within ten years,” says Colette, arching an eyebrow. “Either by surrogate or adoption, obviously.”

“I ain’t so sure we’re comfortable with that, Sam,” Burt says. “They’re still pretty young. I mean, they might not know if they even want kids yet.”

“Part of the reason we have contracts like these is so that we can ensure the family line continues,” says Samuel.

“Both Sebastian and Kurt are only children, are they not?” Colette asks. “Producing heirs is their responsibility.”

Kurt gulps and sinks into his seat. Next to him, Sebastian appears to be completely unfazed by the whole thing, his expression passive, as if the fact that they could be forced to have children together was no big deal.

“Besides,” says Samuel. “Ten years is plenty of time to figure things out.”

As the discussion goes on, white noise fills Kurt’s head. Things were supposed to be a downhill ride after he said yes, but each demand from Mr. and Mrs. Smythe just seem to make things more complicated. How is he supposed to know how much money he’ll be making in a decade? What does it matter if their kid is Smythe-Hummel or Hummel-Smythe? Why do they have to have children anyway? Isn’t the notion of ‘producing heirs’ a little old fashioned?

Closing his eyes, Kurt attempts to push it all away and think of the good things this engagement has brought him so far. The look on Harmony’s face when he announced it at work was absolutely priceless and Amelia is so pleased with him. Rachel couldn’t be more excited if it were her own wedding, and loves to talk about color schemes and floral arrangements between analyzing episodes of Quinn’s show. Best of all, Blaine is coming to visit earlier than initially planned for the engagement party.

It’s when Colette comes in with a clause about just how public extramarital relationships can be that Kurt grips the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turn white. Who the fuck was she to determine what he could do with Blaine or anyone else? Isn’t her lover downstairs this very minute, waiting for her in her car?

A hand closes over his own and Kurt looks up to see Sebastian staring at him, brow furrowed in concern. Kurt releases his grip on the chair and laces his fingers with Sebastian’s. While before it was a little disconcerting, the fact that Sebastian is so calm through all this actually brings Kurt some comfort. Perhaps together they don’t have to care what their contract says, and can do whatever the fuck they want.

“I think that’s enough for today,” says Sebastian, turning away from Kurt to face his parents. “Like you said, dad, we’re just laying things out for now. We’ll work through the kinks later.”

Samuel nods. “Yes, of course. Shall we all go out for dinner?”

“Um, I think my fiancé and I need some alone time,” Sebastian says.

“Yeah,” says Kurt. “I could use a walk.”

“In that case,” says Samuel as he gathers up his papers back into his folder. “Your mother and I will meet you for lunch tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” Sebastian says, flashing a smile.

As Colette and Samuel get their things together, Kurt pulls his laptop towards him and waves to his father.

“You’ll be here for the party on Saturday, right?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” says Burt. He cocks his head to the side and frowns. “You sure you’re ok, kid? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” Kurt says. “It’s just kinda stuffy in here. I’ll see you, Carole, and Finn on Saturday, alright?”

“Alright, see you soon,” Burt says. He squints and moves his mouse around. “How do I log out of this thing?”

“Dad, just click out of the--” Kurt stops when the screen goes black, and closes his laptop with a sigh.

Putting the computer back into his bag, Kurt watches Colette kiss Sebastian on the cheek out of the corner of his eye. He’s going to have to be prepared next time, and not let himself be intimidated by her or her husband. Kurt hoists his bag over his shoulder and follows the Smythes out into the hallway. 

They make idle talk in the elevator, and the whole time Kurt resists the urge to scream. Once out of the building and onto the sidewalk, Sebastian pulls him in the opposite direction of his parents and leads him down the sidewalk.

“Ok,” he says when they’ve gone a sufficient distance from the building. “Let’s talk. What’s wrong?” Sebastian looks down at Kurt and grimaces. 

Kurt rolls his eyes. “What’s that look for?”

“You know what,” Sebastian says. “You looked like you were gonna combust back there.”

“Sorry if I’m not completely thrilled at the prospect of having children with you,” Kurt says. “Or at all, really. Not to mention the whole ‘no separation without breach of contract’ thing.”

“Oh come on,” says Sebastian as he admires his reflection in a store window. “You knew it was gonna be like that. I told you the arrangement my parents had.”

“Well, I didn’t know about your mother’s requirement that we produce an heir,” Kurt says. “What are we, the Malfoys?”

Sebastian stops in front of a display of jewelry and eyes it with interest. He takes Kurt’s arm and tries to steer him into the store, but Kurt resists.

“No way.” Kurt wriggles out of Sebastian’s grip. “You’re not going to bribe me again.”

“Who says this is for you?” Sebastian says with a sneer. “Maybe I’m the one who needs something sparkly, ever think of that?”

Turning on his heal, Sebastian enters the store and leaves Kurt out on the sidewalk. Kurt throws up his hands in frustration and follows him in. He narrows his eyes at the cases filled with necklaces and bracelets, placing a hand over his pin. As much as he admires it, it still feels a little out of place on his chest.

Sebastian leans against the counter and smiles at the clerk. “I’d like to see your men’s’ rings, please. I just got engaged.”

“Of course, sir,” the clerk says. He turns and smiles at Kurt. “Would your fiancé like to see our selection as well?”

“No, thank you,” says Kurt, shaking his head. “Not into rings.”

The clerk nods and turns around to retrieve the rings from the glass case behind him. 

Kurt relaxes against the counter next to Sebastian and frowns. “Since when do you need an engagement ring?”

“Since my boss recommended it,” Sebastian says. He looks down at his nails again and picks at them. “Lawyers don’t really wear brooches.”

The clerk returns with a selection of rings laid out on a black velvet cloth. “These are--”

“Hideous,” says Sebastian, waving his hand. “Bring me something else.”

Gulping, the clerk nods and takes the rings back to their case.

“You didn’t even look at them!” Kurt says.

“Never look at the first thing they bring you,” Sebastian says.

Kurt looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “Whatever.”

“So, what’s the problem with us having kids?” Sebastian asks. “We’re getting married. It’s what married people do.”

“No, it’s what people who want kids or misuse contraception do,” says Kurt. “I don’t want to even consider having kids unless I know the person I’m having them with will be a good parent.”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow. “You don’t think I’d make a good parent?”

“I’m afraid I’m having a hard time seeing you as a dad, Sebastian,” Kurt says.

The clerk comes back with another selection of rings, his smile bright but wavering. Sebastian glances them over and curls his lip in disdain. Nodding, the clerk picks up the rings again and backs away slowly.

“I’ll get something from the back,” he says.

Turning back to Kurt, Sebastian purses his lips. “C’mon, it wouldn’t be that bad. We’d just hand it off to a nanny until it’s old enough to go to boarding school.”

“See?” says Kurt. “This is exactly why I don’t want to have kids with you. You’re not even thinking of our hypothetical child as a person.”

Sebastian sighs. “Fine. Our precious bundle of joy is personally waited on hand and foot by yours truly. What then?”

“Then, I...” Kurt shakes his head. “No, even then, I’ve seen both adoptions and surrogacy go very, very wrong.”

His hands shaking, the clerk lays a third selection of rings onto the counter. Sebastian doesn’t acknowledge him, but does pick up a silver band to examine. He slips it onto his finger and holds it up to the light.

“How so?” Sebastian asks, squinting at the ring.

“It’s a long story,” says Kurt. “But Rachel’s birthmother was the coach of a rival Glee club and it was really weird, and then when she adopted Quinn’s baby, Quinn tried to like, steal her back.”

“Quinn?” Sebastian looks at Kurt and his eyes widen. “You mean Quinn Fabray? Rachel told me you guys went to school with her! So she really did get knocked up in high school?”

“I, uh, I didn’t--” Kurt swallows. “Since when do you talk to Rachel?”

Sebastian shrugs and pulls off the ring to look at another. “We talk about our show.”

“Of course you do,” Kurt says. He rolls his eyes and picks up one of the rings. “This is nice.”

Taking it, Sebastian turns the ring over in his palm. “Eh, it’s ok. I guess I can see why you’re hesitant, but I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”

“It’s very big deal, Sebastian,” says Kurt. “Kids are like, the biggest deal.”

“Then we’ll talk about it again in ten years,” says Sebastian, slipping on the ring that Kurt picked out. “It’s not like my mom will force us to separate.”

“What about you?” Kurt asks. “Will you want to separate ten years from now if I don’t want to have a kid? Will we even still be married then anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian holds his hand up to the clerk. “Can I wear this out?”

“Of course sir,” the clerk says, visibly relieved that Sebastian doesn’t hate it.

As the clerk rings up Sebastian’s purchase, Kurt grips the strap of his bag, twisting it as if to wring out his anxiety. Sebastian sighs and snakes an arm around Kurt’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Listen, let’s forget about it for now, okay?” he says, brushing his lips against Kurt’s ear. “It’ll work itself out, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that,” says Kurt.

Sebastian smiles. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do. C’mon. Let’s go get a drink.”

With the ring bought and paid for, the two head out of the store. Sebastian keeps is arm around Kurt, holding him close as they make their way down the street. While the physical presence is warm and comforting, Kurt still finds himself wary of Sebastian’s more affectionate side. The flutter in his chest is too intimate a feeling for what they initially agreed their relationship would be, but it seems to be shifting every day.

The raging heat that tortured Kurt for most of the day subsides as the sun sets and a cool breeze filters through the tall buildings. Taxis and cars begin to turn on their lights while neon signs glow in the windows of restaurants and bars. Sebastian jumps at the first place with a rainbow flag above the door and pulls Kurt inside. It’s a cozy establishment with leather chairs and reddish-gold lighting. Kurt and Sebastian find a booth in the corner and flag down the bartender.

“I’ll have a seven in seven,” says Sebastian. He turns and smiles at Kurt. “What are you drinking, a Shirley Temple?”

Kurt shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Cute, but no. I’ll have merlot, please.”

The bartender claps his hands and nods. “I’ll have that right up, and just so you know, karaoke starts at eight.”

Sebastian grins. “I think we’re practically obligated to duet.”

“I don’t remember music performances being negotiated in our contract,” Kurt says, eyeing the sound system in the back with a mix of interest and disdain.

As the amount of people in the bar grows, so does the noise level. Kurt has to lean forward and cup his ear to listen to Sebastian describe his finally successful job interview. From what Kurt understands, it’s a transactional firm and Sebastian will mostly be stuck doing paperwork, but it’s a good start. 

“What about you?” Sebastian shouts across the table, putting his hands around his mouth to be heard over the crowd. “You Fey’s favorite yet?”

“No, but the pin is,” Kurt says. He points to the diamond brooch on his lapel. “She’s suddenly all about accessories.”

“I hope Harmony shat herself when she saw it,” says Sebastian.

Kurt shrugs. “I wouldn’t be so vulgar, but more or less. That and when she realized that my Sebastian and her fiance’s Sebastian were one and the same.”

“Oh, so I’m your Sebastian, now?” he asks, titling his head to the side and smiling.

Sebastian leans forward and rests his chin in his hand. His new ring glints in the dim bar light, and suddenly something warm pools in Kurt’s chest.

“I’m afraid you’re trapped,” Kurt says.

“And here I thought it was the other way around,” says Sebastian.

They get their drinks, and soon music is added to the din. A thick binder of songs is passed from group to group as guys line up at the bar to sign up to sing. Sebastian takes a swig of his drink and snatches the binder out of someone’s hands. He ignores their protests, flipping it open and running his finger down the list of songs.

“What are you looking for?” Kurt asks.

“Something that’ll get you into bed,” Sebastian says with a wink.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Good luck with that.”

Turning the page, a sly grin spreads across Sebastian’s face. Kurt leans back in his seat and sips his wine, hoping that whatever song Sebastian picks won’t be too humiliating. Sebastian sits up and slides out of the booth, handing the binder off to the table behind them. Kurt watches him saunter up to the sign-up sheet, a vague sense of dread bubbling in his stomach. When Sebastian returns, he doesn’t sit back on his side of the booth. Instead, he casually slips into the seat next to Kurt, draping an arm around his shoulders.

Kurt arches an eyebrow at him.

“What?” Sebastian asks. “I want to see the stage.”

Kurt just huffs and takes another sip of his wine. He shifts in his seat, leaning into Sebastian, if only for the sake of comfort. The bartender climbs up onto the platform and adjusts the mic to match his height.

“Good evening, gentleman!” the bartender says to the crowd. He’s met with shouts and applause, and he waves his hands to quiet them down. “Welcome to karaoke night! First up is--”

He announces the first singer and moves out of the way as a skinny guy in a polo shirt steps up. Music starts and the guy stutters out the first lyrics. His hands are shaking and his voice trembles, but his friends in the crowd yell out encouragements. When he reaches the chorus, his confidence picks up and he starts to croon like a professional. Kurt smiles and claps.

“Don’t tell me you’re a sucker for an underdog,” Sebastian whispers in his ear.

“I’m just being nice,” Kurt says. “I’d suggest that you try it, but I wouldn’t want you to pop a blood vessel.”

The song ends and the crowd applauds. The guy is red-faced and breathless, but the smile on his face tells Kurt it was worth it. Something comes rushing back to him, something resembling that tingling anticipation before one of his rare solos in glee club. It buzzes in his fingers and creeps up his arms, through his chest. His heart skips a beat when the memory of his own standing ovations flicker through his mind.

The next singer has less of a voice, but more stage presence. He grips the mic with both hands and sways to the music as he belts out a verse. One note comes out exceptionally flat and Kurt has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Sebastian crows in his ear, mimicking the singer’s high-pitched wails. Kurt jabs him in the stomach, causing him to choke and cough, but at least he stops.

“Quit being an asshole,” Kurt says. “Even if he is the male equivalent to Sugar Motta.”

“I don’t what that is,” says Sebastian. “So I’ll just let my imagination run wild.”

“Even your worst nightmares couldn’t compare to her rendition of Big Spender,” says Kurt.

Another wavering note comes out exceptionally sharp, causing Sebastian to make a face.

“I think I get the picture,” he says.

The song finishes to uproarious applause and Kurt gets the impression that this guy might be a regular. The bartender can hardly be heard over the crowd’s cheers, but the barrel-chested man who’s apparently up next takes his cue and steps up to the mic. His voice is a deep, rumbling baritone, and Kurt has to admit he’s impressed.

Sebastian looks down at him with an arched eyebrow. “So you’re into bears now?”

“I appreciate talent,” Kurt says. “Stop trying to figure out what guys I am and am not attracted to, okay?”

“Just trying to see what I have to compete with,” says Sebastian. He trails his fingers up and down Kurt’s neck, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine.

Kurt laughs. “We’re engaged, and our contract is in negotiation, but you won’t consider it a victory until we’ve exchanged vows, will you?”

“Eh, maybe until I get you naked,” Sebastian says.

A few more singers go by with varying levels of ability. Kurt’s halfway through his third glass of wine, feeling warm and tingly from a mix of alcohol and the crowd’s energy. Sebastian’s name is finally called and Kurt shoves him out of the booth.

“Break a leg!” he says as Sebastian regains his balance.

Sebastian shrugs off his jacket and lays it on their table before weaving through the crowd towards the stage. He loosens his tie and grips the mic, caressing it lovingly with his hands. Kurt just rolls his eyes, but the crowd is certainly pleased.

“What do I gotta do to get him to do that to me?” someone behind Kurt asks.

Kurt sits up straight and finishes off the last of his wine, resisting the urge to tell the guy off.

Sebastian flashes a smile to the crowd when the music starts, closes his eyes and begins to sing. “Tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time. I feel aliii-iii-iii-iiive...”

He’s no Freddie Mercury, but something in the way Sebastian sings makes Kurt feel incredibly young. Suddenly he’s sixteen again, his heart racing over the fact that a cute boy is singing just for him. Kurt bites his lip and smiles, resting his chin in his hands and enjoying the show.

The tempo picks up and Sebastian leaps across the stage, dipping the mic stand like a dance partner. Kurt cheers along with the rest of the bar, cupping his hands around his mouth and bouncing in his seat. Sebastian spins on his heels and points directly to Kurt.

“I’m gonna make a supersonic man out of you!” he sings and Kurt’s face turns bright red.

He covers his face in his hands, peeking through his fingers to watch the performance. The other patrons start singing along and Kurt can’t blame them. Sebastian just oozes energy on stage, owning it like he was born for this.

Of course he was a Warbler, Kurt thinks. Sebastian is a rockstar. He can easily picture an ensemble of schoolboys in blue blazers doing the box step in unison behind him. Sebastian pulls the mic stand through his legs as he declares himself a sex machine ready to reload, and Kurt can see someone upfront swoon, fanning himself with his hand. Kurt laughs and rolls his eyes, but inside his stomach is doing somersaults. 

The song tapers off to the melodic piano piece it was in the beginning, and Sebastian takes a bow. The bar explodes with applause. Sebastian just tosses his head back like all the screams are inconsequential to him, swiping the sweat off his brow with the back of this hand. Stepping down from the stage, he pushes through the crowd back to his and Kurt’s booth. He leans against the table and sips at his drink.

“Not bad,” says Kurt, examining his nails and taking deep breaths to calm his heartbeat.

“Just wait till you see who’s up next,” Sebastian says. He slides into the seat across from him and grins.

Kurt looks up and blinks. “Why? Who--”

“Kurt Hummel!” announces the bartender at the mic. The blood drains from Kurt’s face, and the room around him spins. 

“You signed me up?” Kurt hisses. “I don’t even know what song--”

“Come on down!” the bartender says, waving his hands to beckon Kurt towards the stage. The rest of the bar is now staring at him and Kurt knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He sighs and steps out of the booth, leaning down to whisper in Sebastian’s ear. “If you’ve picked something embarrassing, I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“At least I’ll have gotten you in the bedroom,” says Sebastian.

Head up, shoulders back, Kurt makes his way up to the stage. He brushes past the sweaty and drunken patrons, glad that he doesn’t hold this audience’s opinion to such high esteem as a NYADA recruiter. However, once he climbs onto the platform, that familiar, nervous electricity runs through his limbs and up his spine. An ocean of faces stare up at him, waiting him to sing, and Kurt doesn’t even know what song Sebastian selected. He licks his lips and glances at the TV screen used to display lyrics.

The drum beat starts before the lyrics even come up and Kurt blinks, taken aback at the fact that he recognizes the rhythm. Then comes in the bass guitar and it all becomes clear, even to the guys below him. They smile and bounce to the beat. The lyrics appear on the screen, but Kurt doesn’t need them. He’s pretty sure everyone already knows the song by heart through osmosis of movies and advertisements. 

“I know a guy who’s tough but sweet,” Kurt sings, grabbing onto the mic. “He’s so fine he can’t be beat.”

Back at their booth, Kurt can see Sebastian burst into laughter and clap his hands in fiendish delight. 

“Got everything that I desire, sets the summer sun on fire.” Kurt smiles and closes his eyes, if only to keep himself from scowling. If Sebastian picked this as an anthem to himself, then he might be even more egotistical that Kurt thought. “I want candy! I want candy!”

The chorus is too infectious to resist, and the crowd starts singing along. Something about being alone on stage, but having the audience sing with him is thrilling, sending energy like a lightning strike through Kurt’s body. He grips the mic with both hands and dances along to the guitar riff.

For a miraculous two minutes and thirty seconds, Kurt loses himself in a performance like he hasn’t since high school. His worries about work, the contract, and Blaine don’t just melt away, but are burned out by this sugary sweet song. With a wave of his hand, Kurt has the crowd dancing and clapping their hands to the beat. They’re under his complete control, swayed by the mere power of his voice and the sway of his body. His every fiber surges with adrenaline as he sings, and nothing short of sex could possibly feel better.

Sebastian dances with the rest of the crowd, pulling off his tie and throws his hands in the air. Kurt doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol, the song, or just spending way too much time with him, but in that moment, there really ain’t no finer boy in town.

“Someday soon I’ll make him mine, and I’ll have candy all the time.”

As they all leap back into the final rendition of the chorus, Sebastian looks up at Kurt, that smug grin still plastered on his face, but now Kurt can’t bring himself to mind. He’s overflowing with euphoria, light-headed with adrenaline. As the song comes to its end, Kurt can’t remember why the prospect of getting married is supposed to be miserable instead of an exciting adventure before them. He doesn’t bow when the music stops, just leaps off the stage, and heads straight for his fiancé.

“Hey, not bad--” Sebastian starts to say, but is cut off when Kurt throws his arms around his neck and kisses him.

“Yeah, get your candy, boy!” someone yells.

Kurt pulls away and laughs, resting his forehead on Sebastian’s cheek. “You want to get out of here?”

“Definitely,” says Sebastian.

Grabbing Sebastian’s hand, Kurt pulls him back to their booth to grab his bag before heading out of the bar. Sebastian’s skin is warm and soft against his own, making the hairs on Kurt’s arms stand up. Kurt hoists his bag over his shoulder and opens the door. They step out onto the sidewalk and to Kurt’s surprise it’s actually cooler out here than inside. He takes a deep breath and shivers, figuring that it must be from all the people in the bar. It’s nice, but he still leans into Sebastian to feel his heat. Sebastian holds up his free hand to hail a cab.

“I never took you for an Aaron Carter fan,” says Kurt as he watches the cars pass by.

“Excuse you,” Sebastian says. “That was clearly the Bow Wow version.”

A cab comes up to the curb and Sebastian opens the door, stepping aside and gesturing for Kurt to get in. Kurt does so, tugging on Sebastian’s hand to drag him in with him. Sebastian smiles and slides in next to Kurt, closing the door behind them. Letting go of his hand, Kurt trails his fingers up Sebastian’s arms and over his shoulders, to his neck and running them through his hair. Sebastian laughs and gives the driver his address before bowing in and nuzzling into Kurt’s ear.

“You won’t do anything in front of my mother’s driver, but a cabbie’s perfectly fine,” Sebastian says, nipping at Kurt’s jaw.

“Shut up,” says Kurt. The car lurches to the side as it moves back into traffic, pushing the two closer together. “You just have to get me in the right mood. Don’t ruin it.”

Sebastian smiles against Kurt’s skin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Pulling Sebastian’s head back by his hair, Kurt takes a moment to look at him. He’s still buzzing from the performance and the wine, but something in him still needs a moment to make sure this is the right decision. Sebastian furrows his brow, confused.

“You alright?” he asks.

“I like you,” Kurt says. “Sorry, I’m just not used to that. Liking you, I mean.”

“You’re about to like me a lot more,” says Sebastian.

He leans forward and catches Kurt’s mouth with his own, coaxing it open. Kurt sighs and smiles, enjoying the lingering taste of whisky and soda. A rush of endorphins surges through his already elated mind, and Kurt lets himself melt into him. Maybe it’s just the alcohol and the karaoke, or maybe it’s just because it’s been so long since he really kissed someone without it being some kind of goodbye, but tangling himself up in Sebastian makes Kurt feel like he’s flying.

They struggle to find a good position in the cab without falling over, and occasionally Kurt opens his eyes to see the driver glaring at them in the rear-view mirror, but Kurt doesn’t care. He wantsneedsdesires in every combination all at once, grasping at every inch of Sebastian he can get his hands on. His clothes are hot and tight, his skin itching like a snake needing to shed. The few uncovered places where he can make real, marvelous contact with Sebastian are used until raw. Kurt can’t even imagine the kind of hickeys he’ll have when this is over.

Sebastian slides his lips down Kurt’s neck, pulling at the buttons of his shirt to expose his collarbone. He bites and sucks and grazes his teeth against Kurt’s skin, sniggering at every little sound he provokes. His hands grip Kurt’s thighs, digging his nails into the fabric. 

“I can’t wait to get these off you,” he breathes into Kurt’s ear. “You have no idea how hard it is to even look at you sometimes.”

Kurt laughs, pressing his face into the crook of Sebastian’s shoulder. “Yeah, I guess you’re attractive too.”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian says, smoothing his hands up Kurt’s legs and hooking his fingers into his belt loops.

“You will,” says Kurt. Sebastian only laughs and presses a palm to Kurt’s crotch, feeling the outline of his cock. Kurt hisses through his teeth, closing his eyes and doing everything he can to keep from thrusting up into Sebastian’s hand. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, you will.”

Wheels squeak as the cab comes to a stop in front of Sebastian’s building. Kurt groans in frustration when Sebastian pulls away to take out his wallet and hand the driver a wad of bills. 

“Keep the change,” Sebastian says as he opens the door, bursting into laughter when Kurt pushes him onto the street.

Kurt climbs out after him and the cab speeds away. He grips Sebastian’s hand and stares up at the building towering over them. “Tell me you live on the first floor.”

“Tenth,” Sebastian says. “Hey, be happy I don’t live in the penthouse.”

They make their way through the lobby, Kurt clinging to Sebastian and burying his red face in his shirt, hoping that no one at the front desk can see his erection. Sebastian leads him to the elevators and presses the button. Kurt tries not to whimper when he sees the display above the doors indicating how high up the elevator is, each number ringing his ears as they slowly come down.

“Just a few more levels,” says Sebastian as he wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist.

Tearing his eyes away from the numbers, Kurt can see himself and Sebastian in the mirror-like doors of the elevator. With their arms around each other and their faces flush and breathless, they don’t look like a pair of kids thrown together by circumstance. They look like a couple. Kurt swallows and turns away. They look in love.

With the sound of a bell, the doors open and Sebastian pulls them inside. Kurt shakes the image of their reflection out of his head, pressing the button for their level. He licks his lips and smiles up at Sebastian, who takes that as a hint to press him up against the wall and kiss him. Kurt barely gets a chance to kiss back when Sebastian breaks it and lowers himself to his knees.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” says Kurt, closing his eyes and hitting the back of his head on the wall as Sebastian fumbles with his zipper.

Sebastian only smiles and runs his hand over Kurt’s cock through his pants, leaning in and placing hot kisses on his thighs. He can feel the heat of Sebastian’s breath through the fabric, making his knees go weak and tremble. Putting his weight against the wall, Kurt spreads his legs to give Sebastian better access. He needs Sebastian’s mouth on him as soon as possible.

But the elevator stops, and Kurt opens his eyes to see that they’ve reached the tenth floor. Sebastian grins and stands up, kissing Kurt on the cheek before taking his hand and pulling him into the hallway.

“You fucking tease,” Kurt says.

“As if you haven’t been teasing me since your boyfriend’s wedding,” says Sebastian. He tugs on Kurt’s hand, urging him to pick up the pace.

Kurt’s so hard it hurts, and it’s too uncomfortable to run, so he sort of half-jogs alongside Sebastian. He eyes each doorway, hoping for some sign that they’ve reached their destination, but Sebastian breezes past them without a second look. They’re two thirds of the way down the hall when Sebastian finally halts, digging in his pockets for his keys. Gripping his shoulders, Kurt presses his erection into the cleft of Sebastian’s ass and blows in his ear, making him shiver.

“Hurry up,” he says. “Or I’m fucking you in this hallway.”

The keys clink as Sebastian pulls them out, but he holds them away from the door and leans into Kurt. “That could be arranged, you know.”

“Just open the door, asshole.” Kurt says, pushing Sebastian away.

Sebastian laughs and slides a key into the lock. With a click, the door opens and they make their way inside. It’s too dark for Kurt to see much, but with the light from the hallway he can just make out what looks to be a kitchen to his right and a sofa ahead of him. Sebastian closes the door, blocking out the light and engulfing them in darkness. Kurt feels Sebastian’s fingers brush against his arm, and he takes his hand.

Blindly, he lets Sebastian lead him through the apartment, taking a left turn into another hall. Kurt bumps into a table, knocking something over, but they’re both too eager to get to the bedroom to care. They stop and Sebastian opens a door, feeling around the wall for a switch. A light comes on, welcoming Kurt to Sebastian’s room.

It’s a spacious room with a big bed piled with gray blankets and pillows in the middle. Sebastian lets go of Kurt’s hand and sits on the edge of the bed, patting his leg to tell Kurt to come sit. Kurt smiles and kicks off his shoes before climbing into Sebastian’s lap, one leg on either side of him. He cups Sebastian’s jaw and kisses him, slow and deep and sensual. Sebastian seems to open up under him, pulling him close and breathing him in. The kiss breaks and Sebastian pulls a few inches away, bringing his hands up to Kurt’s dragonfly pin.

“Wouldn’t want this to get hurt,” he says as he detaches it from Kurt’s vest.

Kurt looks down at it, surprised. “I forgot I was even wearing that thing.”

“Really? I couldn’t stop looking at it, myself,” Sebastian says. He places the pin on the bedside table next to some framed pictures. “Now, where were we?”

“I think we were taking things off,” Kurt says, working at the buttons of his vest. 

Sebastian helps him push the vest off his shoulders and toss it onto the floor by his shoes. Gripping the sides of Kurt’s shirt, he pulls it up, untucking it and exposing a fresh strip of skin along his waist. As Kurt lifts the shirt over his head, Sebastian drags his nails down Kurt’s back and mouths at his skin, nipping and sucking just over his nipple.

Kurt tugs at the back of Sebastian’s shirt, who pulls away for a moment to rip it off. He gets his arms caught in his sleeves for a second, and something definitely tears, but once the thing is off, neither of them cares. Kurt pushes him down onto the bed, the two of them sinking into the comforter like its water. The touch of chest to chest, stomach to stomach, is nothing short of cathartic. They kiss, letting their hands wander and pull, bringing their bodies as close together as possible.

Snaking his hands around him, Sebastian slips his hands into the back of Kurt’s back and gives his ass a hearty squeeze. “I would marry you just for your ass alone, I swear to god.”

Kurt pulls away from a kiss to laugh. “You should put that in your vows. I’m sure our parents would love that.

“Hey,” says Sebastian. “Less parent talk, more dirty talk.”

Kurt obliges, whispering things into Sebastian’s ear that he’s thought since watching him sing onstage. They bring out perfect, agonizing noises from Sebastian, who continues to knead Kurt’s ass with his hands. With every push and caress, he inches Kurt’s pants down. Kurt sits up and brings his hands to his fly, looking down at Sebastian with a grin.

“You’re gonna need help to get these off,” Kurt says.

Sebastian purses his lips and eyes the jeans like they personally insulted him. “Did you have to sew them on, or are they painted?”

“They’re custom fitted,” says Kurt as he wriggles them down his hips. 

“Of course they are,” says Sebastian. He sits up as Kurt steps off the bed to get them the rest of the way of, and smiles as he takes in the view. “Hello, legs.”

Kurt glances down at what generally thinks of as pale, gangly limbs, but under Sebastian’s gaze, they’re long and muscular, ready to wrap around Sebastian and pin him down. He climbs back onto the bed, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and nudging them down. Keeping his eyes on Kurt, Sebastian lays flat on the bed and works at his own button and fly. Once undone, he arches up his hips, and Kurt slides them off in one swift motion. He drops them on the floor and crawls over Sebastian, placing soft kisses up his torso. His fingers brush over Sebastian’s sides, giving him goose bumps and making him squirm.

Kurt gives the middle of his chest a wet, open kiss before moving up to meet his lips. Running his fingers through Kurt’s hair, Sebastian crashes their mouths together, thrusts his hips upward for any chance of friction. Kurt grinds into him, moving his hips back and forth. He groans at every slow drag of skin and cotton, burying his face in Sebastian’s neck to contain himself. Sebastian has his hands on Kurt’s ass again, pulling at his briefs until they’re down enough to take out Kurt’s cock.

Sebastian wraps his hand around it, building up a slow and steady rhythm. The sensation is too much, and Kurt’s bucking as he thrusts into Sebastian’s hand.

“Fuck,” Kurt says, biting into Sebastian’s shoulder. “Jesus Christ, fuck.”

“Do you want to?” Sebastian asks as he squeezes the base of his cock a little harder.

Kurt takes a deep breath, trying to come back to his senses enough to really talk. “What?”

“Do want to fuck me?” Sebastian asks.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Kurt looks down at Sebastian. “What do you want to do?”

Sebastian smiles. “I wanna ride you.”

“Then let’s do it,” says Kurt.

He grips Sebastian’s shoulders and rolls them over, bumping their noses and foreheads together as they tumble. Sebastian sits up and quickly sheds his underwear, finally naked before his fiancé. He fists a hand around his cock as he leans over and searches through the bedside table for supplies. Pulling out a pack of condoms and a bottle, Sebastian crawls into Kurt’s lap and nips at his ear.

“Finger me open,” he whispers. “Get me ready for your cock.”

Kurt pecks him on the cheek and takes the packet and bottle from him. He sets the condoms aside, opens the bottle, and squeezes some lube onto his fingers.

“Lay down,” Kurt says, and Sebastian obliges.

Holding up his legs, Sebastian exposes hole to Kurt. He looks up at him, licking his lips like he’s hungry for it. Kurt spreads the lube evenly over his fingers, and dribbles some over Sebastian’s asshole. He circles the rim with his middle finger, and pumps Sebastian’s cock through his other hand.

“You really want this, don’t you?” Kurt asks as he presses his finger in. “You want me to fuck you. You want to ride me like a train.”

“Christ, yes.” Sebastian breathes. He throws his head back and clenches his eyes shut. “I need it.”

Another finger joins the first, and Kurt pushes them in and out, mesmerized at the way Sebastian’s hole stretches around them, and the noises he makes as he falls apart. There’s something powerful in the act of fingering that Kurt absolutely adores. He retains a certain amount of control over Sebastian with his hands and fingers, knowing that every little crook and movement could send him reeling. Kurt pulls out and adds a third finger before slowly thrusting back in.

“You like this?” Kurt asks, thrusting harder and speeding up the rhythm of his strokes around Sebastian’s cock.

Sebastian chokes out a moan and pulls his legs farther apart. “Harder. I want more.”

“You ready?” asks Kurt. “You think you’re ready to fuck yourself on my cock?”

Nodding his head, Sebastian drops his legs as Kurt pulls his fingers out of his hole. He brings Kurt in for another kiss, grabbing onto his shoulders and climbing into his lap. Kurt reaches between them, wrapping his hand around both their cocks and squeezing them together. He smiles and moans into the kiss, thinking that few things feel better than a hard cock against his own. Sebastian picks up one of the condom packets and rips it open, bringing the rubber down and rolling it over Kurt’s erection.

Once sure that it’s on tight and secure, Sebastian sits up, holding his ass over Kurt’s cock. He reaches down and guides his cock into him, taking deeper breaths the further it goes. Sebastian lets go and holds onto Kurt’s shoulders for support, resting his forehead in the crook of his neck.

“God, you’re so good,” he says. “I’m so glad I’m marrying you, fuck.”

Kurt kisses his neck and carefully lies back onto the bed. Sebastian sits up, resting his hands on Kurt’s chest as he slowly lefts himself up. He comes back down with force, pressing Kurt’s cock deeper inside him. Beads of sweat trickle down Sebastian’s neck and chest, catching the light just so and making him look like a master piece painting. Kurt can’t take it anymore and holds Sebastian’s hips still as he thrusts up into him.

With every motion of their bodies, Sebastian makes the most delicious, breathless sounds, repeating Kurt’s name over and over again until it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore. Sebastian grips his own cock, jerking himself off to the rhythm of Kurt’s thrust and looking absolutely gorgeous and filthy while doing it.

Bending over, Sebastian goes in for kiss, sliding his tongue against Kurt’s and massaging them together. Kurt adjusts his legs so that he can keep a hold on him and fucking up into him like it’s the last thing he’ll do. Sebastian breaks the kiss and nips across his jaw until he reaches Kurt’s hear. He takes the lobe into his mouth and suck on it, rolling it around in his teeth. Kurt’s breathing hitches and his thrust become more erratic when Sebastian lets go to whisper in his ear.

Kurt can’t quite hear him over the squeak of the bed and his own desperate moans, but there’s hot breath in his in ear and vibrations shooting down his spine, so he doesn’t really care about the details. He just needs Sebastian to kiss him again, kiss him and moan and beg to be fucked like this for the rest of their married life. 

“You love this,” says Kurt, reaching up and digging his nails into Sebastian’s arm.

“Yes, yes, keep going,” Sebastian says. “I’m almost there.”

Kurt smiles and drags his lips across Sebastian’s cheek, tasting skin and sweat. “You need to come?”

Sebastian makes a strained, choking noise and nods. “Please.”

Taking that as a sign, Kurt lifts Sebastian up by his hips and slams him onto his cock. Sebastian throws his head back, letting out a guttural moan. Kurt lifts him up and does again and again, pushing deeper into Sebastian each time. Sebastian pumps his fist over his cock and stiffens, his whole body becoming rigid as semen spills out onto Kurt’s chest and stomach.

He collapses on top of Kurt, limp and breathless. Kurt holds him close and rolls them over, doing his best to stay inside him. Kissing Sebastian deep and slow, Kurt hoists his knees over his shoulders and continues to thrust.

“You gonna come inside me?” Sebastian asks. He looks up at Kurt, his eye half-closed and a sleepy smile spreading across his face. Kurt answers by pushing in harder, faster. Sebastian tangles in hands in Kurt’s hair, pulling to the point of pain and whispering in his ear. “Fuck me. Fuck me like I know you want to every time you see me.”

At that point, Kurt loses control. He presses his face into Sebastian’s skin and lets hips buck into him without any sense of rhythm or tempo. His mind no longer forms complete thoughts as physical sensation overwhelms him. Everything he hearsseestastessmells is Sebastian, and that’s all they need to be. Kurt thrusts one more time, holding it in deep as he drags his nails across Sebastian’s skin. His orgasm rips through him, flooding his every nerve until it finally runs over and Kurt falls apart in Sebastian’s arms.

They stay like that for a few moments, sweaty and sticky and tangled together before Sebastian props himself up and brushes the hair out of Kurt’s face.

“I need a drink,” Sebastian says.

Kurt closes his eyes and swallows. “I need a shower.”

“You can use mine,” says Sebastian, gesturing to a door on the other side of the room. “I just need to rehydrate.”

“Alright,” says Kurt, peeling himself from him. He grips his cock and pulls it out of Sebastian with a sigh. Pulling off the condom, he ties a knot in the middle and tosses it into a wastebasket by the bed. His legs are sore and trembling when he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom. Every bone in his body feels like jelly.

Opening the door and turning the light on, Kurt enters the shower. In the corner of his eye he sees Sebastian pull on a pair of sweatpants and head back to the kitchen. Kurt stumbles over to the shower, pushing away the patterned curtain to reach the faucets. Once the water is on, Kurt steps in and closes his eyes, letting it wash over him.

He can’t believe what just happened. Kurt had sex with Sebastian Smythe and it was good and satisfying and was probably going to happen again. Taking a deep breath, Kurt reaches for a loofa and some body wash. His heart pounds in his ears, and Kurt can’t decide if this is bad news or not. Sure, it’s a good thing that he and Sebastian are getting along, but Blaine will be here in a couple days for the engagement party. How is he supposed to look him in the face after this?

Kurt shakes his head as he lathers himself up with soap. His relationship with Blaine is simply not the way it was before and he has no reason to feel guilty. Still, knowing that this will hurt Blaine regardless of their relationship status weighs down on Kurt like a mountain. He rinses off, standing in the shower stream for a few more minutes even though all the bubbles are gone.

Realizing that if he stays any longer he’ll start to prune, Kurt turns off the water and reaches through the curtain for a towel. Sebastian towels are soft, fluffy, and gray to match his bed set. He grabs one off the hooks and runs it over his body, catching the last few drops of water. Stepping out of the shower, Kurt drops the towel into a laundry bin and grabs a robe hanging next to the mirror. He shrugs it over his shoulders and ties a knot around his waist with the belt, taking a good look at himself.

His skin is still red, and wet hair clings to his forehead and neck. Kurt picks a comb up from the counter and runs it through his soaking mop until it’s presentable, then heads back out to the bedroom.

Sebastian isn’t there so Kurt figures he’s still in the kitchen with his drink. He heads out into the hall, where he sees that most of the apartment lights are now on. Paintings and photographs hang on the walls, mostly of places in the French countryside. Face-down on the floor beside an end table is a picture frame. Remembering that he knocked something over in the dark when he first came in, Kurt kneels down to pick it up. He turns it over in his hands to see Sebastian and some other boys sitting on a familiar spiral staircase.

Kurt blinks and his mouth goes dry. Sebastian and the Warblers sit together in their blue and red blazers on the staircase Kurt climbed every day when he attended Dalton. It’s the place where he first met Blaine.

“You want a drink?” Looking up, Kurt sees Sebastian leaning against the hall’s archway, holding up a glass of water.

“Uh, yeah,” Kurt says, reaching out for the glass. He stands up and places the picture back on the table. He takes a long sip, closing his eyes and trying not to freak out. “So, um, do you have a lot of Dalton stuff around here, or is it just that?”

“Hm?” Sebastian lifts himself from the wall and walks up to the picture, squinting at it. “Oh, that thing? Yeah, I think I have a scrapbook or something full of Warbler stuff. Why? Wanna blindfold me with a Dalton tie?”

“I’m picking up Blaine from the airport the day after tomorrow,” Kurt says, taking another sip. “I saw that, and after we, um...”

Sebastian frowns and puts an arm on Kurt’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”

“This is just, this is happening really fast.” Kurt says.

“I thought you said you were ready.” Sebastian says, furrowing his brow.

“I did,” says Kurt. “And I am. I mean, I’m ready for, for you, I think. I just don’t know if I’m ready for everything that’s gonna happen with Blaine. I just, I know he’s gonna hurt, and it’ll be because of me, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Sebastian’s expression softens and he takes Kurt’s glass, putting on the table next to the picture. He pulls Kurt into a hug and holds him close.

“You’re being awfully nice,” Kurt says. “Does sex give you a personality reboot or something?”

“I’m not nice, I’m practical. I just want this to work,” says Sebastian into Kurt’s hair. “And for that to happen, you need to be on good terms with your boyfriend. So, when he gets here, we’ll all, I don’t know, work on it together.”

“Alright,” says Kurt, pulling away. “If you say so.”

Sebastian runs a hand down Kurt’s arm. “I mean it. Now, let’s go to bed. I think it’s best we decide our spooning positions early on.”

“Spooning?” Kurt asks, cracking a smile. “Who said we were gonna spoon?”

“I did,” Sebastian says as he leads him back into the bedroom. “As the outer spoon, I get to decide these things.”

Kurt laughs, but doesn’t object. They climb into bed, pull over the covers and sink into pillows. Sebastian tries to position himself behind Kurt, but keeps moving around like he can’t find a good spot. Eventually, Kurt turns on his back, holding out his arms and pulling Sebastian down to rest his head on his chest. Sebastian mutters some complaint, but once he gets comfortable he falls asleep easily.

But Kurt does not have the same luxury. He stares up at the ceiling fan, watching it spin and dreading the days ahead of them. How will their families get along at the engagement party? Will Colette make some snide remark about Carole? Will Finn say something stupid in front of Samuel? Will seeing Kurt and Sebastian together absolutely break Blaine’s heart? He clenches his eyes and runs his fingers through Sebastian’s hair. They’re in this together. That’s what a marriage is supposed to be, after all. They’re in this together, and together they’ll make it through.


End file.
